Life As We Know It
by forever21lupus
Summary: CIA operative Riley Todd thinks nothing of seeing a dead corpse walking in the Colombian rainforest, thinking it must've been a hallucination. But when she finds out that it wasn't, she has to switch to survival mode. Exhausted and starving, her and her two friends stumble upon a small band of survivors and must deal with opponents even more dangerous than the dead. Daryl x OC
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! I'm starting a new Walking Dead fanfiction. I can't help it; I just love this show so much. Tell me what y'all think!**

**Prologue**

**Dawn Of A New Day**

* * *

Riley Todd slashed the machete through -yet another - vine. She swore, if she saw another one- oh, there we go. She growled, irritated, stepping over a fallen log. The humidity made her clothes stick to her sweaty body, and her frizzy, brown curls clung to her skin. The sun was shining, but, with the rainforest's thick canopy, you'd be none-the-wiser. The temperature was well over a hundred, and a thick cloud of mosquitoes seemed to be following her wherever she went. Monkeys started up a chorus of warning howls, signaling that someone was close by.

Riley's brow furrowed as she stumbled, catching herself on a thick tree trunk. She fumbled at her belt for a water bottle that had been emptied almost a day ago. Thirst was making her throat burn, and the humidity made her feel like she was choking.

The slender brunette hated hot weather. Her hatred was so strong that she even disliked warm weather. She loved the cold; the feel of brisk wind blowing into her frost-bitten face. A scarf nestled closely against her neck, and her toes warm and toasty in fuzzy socks and ugg boots.

"What the..." she muttered, peering off into the woods with squinted eyes. It seemed to be a person in the distance, stumbling towards her. Nervously, she re-adjusted her sweaty grip on the machete, moving behind the tree. Her heart started beating faster, pushing blood sluggishly through her veins.

Could the drug cartel have caught up with her? It was unlikely; they all thought that "Elena Esmeralda from Argentina" had died. She had been extremely successful this mission, and her acting had been exceptional. She had enough evidence to get them thrown into jail for life.

A whiny growl snaked from the person's throat as he kept coming. He seemed oblivious of the foliage blocking his path; he plowed right over them. Whoever this was, he wasn't intent on being secret about it.

As he came closer, Riley's brows furrowed. His skin was discolored and sallow, with several infected wounds on his body. His neck was ripped open, dried blood crusted on his purple-ish skin.

Riley shook her head, wondering if she was hallucinating. No human being could survive that kind of wound. But the...thing in front of her was alive, or some loose meaning of the word. It reached its arms out, stumbling through the foliage. She could now hear his moaning and groaning, and his blood-shot eyes were locked on her image.

Riley couldn't take any chances. She pulled her gun out of its holster, shooting a single bullet into its chest. The forest fell dead silent as the animals strained their ears to listen.

The thing didn't stop. _It didn't even flinch. _

Fear was an emotion that Riley was all-too-familiar with. It was an emotion that made her adrenaline race through her veins and made her feel alive. It was part of the reason she had taken this job; fear was her middle name. But this fear was different. Clarity came to her exhausted mind, and she dropped the gun, clenching the machete with a slightly trembling hand.

The thing stumbled on her, and she impaled it through the eye with her machete. Blood splashed onto her skin and clothes, and he fell like a sack of bricks. Putting one foot on his face and jerking out her knife, she gave up a second of her precious time to study the thing.

The skin was rotting and decayed, taking on an infected hue. Blood covered its whole front and most of its face. Its scleras were red, and the eyes were glazed over. This thing looked...dead. Or, at least, it had been.

The sound of a helicopter drew her from her observations. "Damn!" she hissed, dropping to her knees and pulling her backpack out. She rifled through the contents, hastily lighting the flare. It shot into the sky with a whine and a brilliant, vermillion-green color. The helicopter hovered over her for a second before turning and flying away.

Riley knew they had seen her flare and were directing her to a clearing wide enough that they could land. She followed, stumbling over tree roots and pushing through the foliage. A tarantula dropped on her arm, but she brushed it off, focused on her course.

She eventually came to a clearing. She hopped into the helicopter, where she was given a bottle of water and a pillow. She fell asleep almost immediately, promising herself she would keep the thing she had seen a secret.

* * *

Riley sat at the table, eagerly eating a large batch of french fries. Something that no other country could ever replicate was an American-style, dripping-with-grease cheeseburger and soggy, fattening french fries.

"You're eating those like you've never seen food before," the petite Indian girl from across the table stated, smiling.

"She always eats like that," Mark added, sitting between the two girls. He was easily three-hundred pounds, with thick black hair and pink, blotchy skin.

"Shut up," Riley muttered, stuffing another fry into her mouth.

"So, where'd Miss CIA run off to this time?" Simmie asked, smiling softly.

"South America," Riley answered. "And that's all I can tell you," she said in a teasing voice, pointing a french fry at her.

Simmie giggled, reaching forward and taking a bite of the fry.

The TV was on in the small apartment, humming dully. It was set onto the wall, and Riley remembered helping her childhood friend hook it up only about a couple months ago. She was horrendous with electronics, and Riley wasn't exceptional either, so she had called her friend Mark to help. He had clicked with Simmie as well, and the three of them had become fast friends, promising to hang out whenever Riley got back from her latest spy mission.

A news reporter suddenly appeared on the screen, interuppting the latest episode of Criminal Minds. "Oh, turn it up please, Mark. This might be about the virus."

"You're twenty-nine years old; you need to learn how to use a damn remote," Mark complained, turning the volume up.

"...has reached emergency status. All Georgia residences are encouraged to evacuate to Atlanta. Refugee camps are being set up, and the army is being moved in. If you cannot relocate to Atlanta, then staying in your homes would be your best bet. The Center for Disease Control is working madly on a cure. You'll be notified when we have new information. Stay tuned." The reporter lady disappeared, replaced with the face of Spencer Reid.

Mark turned the volume back down, causing the apartment room to become silent. The joking faces turned somber.

"This is pretty serious, huh?" Mark mumbled.

Riley nodded, dropping the french fry back onto the plate. Her thoughts turned back to the thing she had seen, deep in the Colombian rain forest, making her lose her appetite. She wrestled with her thoughts for a moment. "Guys, I-" Riley started but was cut off by frantic knocking on the door.

"Simmie! Simmie, get out here, quickly!" a man shouted through the door. "We're evacuating, quick!"

Riley could hear faint screaming echoing throughout the halls. Simmie and Mark's faces drained of color, twisting into grimaces of horror. Immediately, Riley knew what was happening. The virus that affected the man in Colombia had finally hit the apartment.

"Get up," she ordered, leaping to her feet. The other two didn't move, so she grabbed Mark and hauled him to his feet. "Get up! Mark, go find as many suitcases and bags as you can find. Simmie, start getting our clothes. _Now_!" Riley snapped, shoving Mark towards the lemon closet and Simmie to the bedroom. Riley was happy that Mark and her had decided to stay with Simmie instead of in a hotel. She could see the panic freezing their blood, making their muscles tense to the point where they didn't want to move. But, with clear, simple instructions, they found their bodies moving.

She sprinted to the kitchen, opening all the cabinets. She knocked all the food out, looking only for the things that wouldn't spoil. Canned and packaged foods, especially. They crashed against the linoleum floor, and she scooped them up into her arms.

Mark deposited a couple bags on the living room floor. Riley dropped to her knees, stuffing as much food into the backpacks as possible. Mark stood over her, hands fidgeting as the screams grew louder.

"Go, help Simmie!" Riley commanded. He stumbled into the bedroom, coming out with clothes in his arms. He started pushing them into a suitcase.

Riley started dashing around the house, collecting various items that they would need. Blankets, pillows, hair brushes, soap, toothbrushes, etc.

As the screams started escalating madly, Riley knew that the things had reached their floor. "Zip them up, come on!"

Simmie had tears running down her face, and she was trying to stick a picture in a frame into the over-stuffed suitcase.

"Stop, there's no time!" Riley grabbed the younger woman's arm, wrenching her away. She zipped it shut, handing it to Simmie.

Riley wrenched a knife from her belt and removed her gun from its holster. "On the count of three, I am going to open this door," she said clearly, staring urgently at her two friends. "I will try and hold them up; you two get to Simmie's car. No matter what, do not stop! Ready? One, two, three!"

Riley wrenched the door open, stepping out into the hall. There were at least three different corpses, each surrounded by a group of things, who were all actually eating the dead people.

"Oh my God," Simmie whispered, staring in wide-eyed horror.

One of the things that wasn't eating looked up, giving a growl and standing.

"Go, go, go, go!" Riley shouted, turning and shoving them towards the staircases at the end of the hall. One of the things lunged for Mark, but Riley quickly shot it just above the ear. Blood spattered everywhere as the thing dropped. "Don't stop!"

They sprinted for the door, and Riley killed two more before slamming the metal door behind them. The things clawed at the barricade, trying to get through.

"What are those things?" Mark breathed. Simmie put her hands on her knees as she vomitted.

Riley shook her head, panting heavily. "I don't know. But we can't stop. Come on." She turned and dashed down the abandoned stairs, Mark and Simmie following close behind. They made it to the ground floor in merely seconds, peeking through the little glass window in the door that led to the lobby. There were only a few things down on this floor, and Riley assumed that they had all ascended the other staircase, where the majority of...humans were.

"Ready?" Riley whispered. "One...two... three!" She kicked open the door, shooting the nearest one in the back of the head. She jumped over the body, tackling another one. Its hands pressed against her face, pulling at her skin. She pressed the barrel against its chin, making the thing suddenly lie still.

Riley leapt up to her feet, chasing after Mark and Simmie into the parking garage. Riley easily overtook them, shooting at a thing without stopping. They sprinted to Simmie's blue Ford Focus, Riley launching into the driver's seat.

"Keys, keys!" she demanded.

"I- I don't know!" Simmie cried, her hands spread wide as she slammed shut the passenger door.

"Are you- _You've gotta be kidding me!_" Riley screamed, kicking a thing that was reaching into the car before swiftly ending it. Mark jumped into the back seat, and Riley shut the door. "How the hell do you hotwire this thing?!" She leaned forwards, ripping off the plastic to reveal the wires.

"T-T-The red cord, grab it!" Mark stammered. Riley did as she was told. "Now, cut it and press it against the blue!"

Riley slid the hidden knife out of her left combat boot, trying to ignore the things beating on the windows. The red cut open, revealing the gold wires underneath. She frantically pressed the exposed wire against a blue one. Nothing happened.

"Come on! Please, please, come on!" she shrieked through gritted teeth, pressing them tighter.

The car jolted, giving a loud roar. Simmie screamed shrilly, the sound of breaking glass filling their ears. Riley shot back up, cracking her head painfully against the dashboard. "God-" she exclaimed, clutching the back of her head and slamming her foot on the gas pedal. She backed up sharply before throwing it into drive and running over a few of the things.

Riley booked it, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles were drained of color. Everywhere, there were things chewing on people; people running away; militia gunning down anything in sight.

As Riley was speeding towards the edge of the city, she was stopped by two men in army uniforms. She rolled down the window.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What do you think you're doing?!" Riley shouted out the window, reaching in her pocket and flashing her credentials. "CIA, dimwits! Move, or I'll report your asses so fast you won't know what happened!"

They stepped back, overwhelmed for a second. The moment's hesitation was enough for Riley to slip away so fast that the wheels skidded and the end of the car veered. Riley quickly regained control, heading for the highway out. It was, of course, jammed.

Riley cut across the median, taking the other side of the road. She swerved, dodging corpses, things, and overturned cars.

With Riley driving at nearly one-hundred miles per-hour, it didn't take long to put Atlanta behind them.

It was dead silent in the car as they drove down a tiny, two-lane country road. Simmie was staring straight ahead, her normally-brown skin looking a light mocha under the tears slipping down her cheeks. Riley couldn't get a good look at Mark in the backseat.

The engine began to whine as the car slowed, no matter how fast Riley pumped the gas pedal. When they finally rolled to a stop, she muttered, "Tank's empty."

Nobody moved. The silence was deafening. Riley leaned her head against the steering wheel, struggling to compose herself. She had to be strong for Mark and Simmie. She had to be the one to take care of them, because they wouldn't last a day alone with those things.

"Come on, guys," Riley whispered, her voice breaking. She cleared her throat and repeated herself, opening the door and stepping out. She stared at the tiny road, surrounded by woods. As Mark and Simmie started to pull all the luggage from the car, Riley decided where they needed to go.

She leaned down and shouldered a duffle bag and a backpack. "Let's go."

The three of them entered the woods, heading up the hill.


	2. Chapter 2

**so, a big thank you to everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed! I was not expecting any response at all, so to get as many as I did is fantastic(: y'all are awesome!**

**and to anyone who watched the latest episode of TWD ... i'll be happy to share the name of my grief therapist with you. Lord knows we all need one after that emotional heartbreak.. gosh, all the feels Dx**

**1**

**Part Of The Family**

* * *

Riley tensed, feeling her muscles clench under her skin. Her heart thumped just a little faster than normal as she swiveled her head around. The dappled light shining through the tree canopy made everything look as if it was moving, and the breeze making the leaves stir definitely didn't help. She slowly slid her dagger out of her belt, looking around and trying to locate the source of the rustling she had heard.

Riley hated it out here. You were exposed; the light played tricks on your eyes; and don't get her started about the noises. You never knew if it came from a leaf falling on a bush or a thing stumbling towards you from behind.

She could hear voices in the distance, lots of them. Riley followed the sound, creeping up to a clearing. She crouched under some thick foliage, peeking through to see a group of people.

There had to be more than a dozen. Families, kids, old people.

A group. Riley's spirits soared. This could be exactly what they needed. She spun around and disappeared back into the woods. Retracing her steps, she sprinted about half a mile to their camp.

Mark and Simmie looked up in surprise, scrambling to their feet.

"There's a camp; a huge group of people just up the road. Come on," Riley said quicky, grabbing all their luggage. They shouldered the packs, and Riley led the way to the camp.

Once they came into sight of the camp, the brunette hissed for them to stay down. She inched forwards, peering through the leaves.

Her green eyes fell onto the people. There was an RV with an old man on top, tents scattered throughout the clearing, and a couple of low fires.

Riley shrank back. "They look alright," she whispered, still looking ahead. "They've got women and children and only a couple guys that I can see who can fight. Worst comes to worst, I can distract them, and you two can beat it."

Her two partners were unusually quiet. Confused, she turned around, right into the point of a crossbow.

Her eyes traveled up, looking into the man's face.

"Gotcha," he growled.

Riley's mind whirled. Fight or give in? Was he part of the group or rogue? The chances of him being in the group were greater than him being a stray, so she decided to give in.

She stood, slowly, hands held up in a non-threatening way. She couldn't help but be impressed; he had managed to detain two of her men and sneak up on her.

"I can't remember the last time somebody snuck up on me," Riley stated, a cautious smirk playing across her lips. Simmie and Mark were crouched behind him, eyes and mouths open wide and fixated on her, waiting for her reaction.

"Look what I found y'all," Daryl Dixon called roughly to the group, motioning for the brunette to step into the clearing.

She complied, stepping out of the forest, followed by her two pussy friends. The camp went into disarray: the women grabbed their kids and cowered while the men stood up, grabbing some form of a weapon.

"They were spyin' on us!" Daryl exclaimed, prodding the brunette in the back with his bow.

She turned around, her green eyes flashing. "Hey, chill out," she snapped, taking another step into the camp.

"Who're you?" Shane demanded, tensely holding his rifle.

"I'm Riley Todd. These are my friends Simmie Abutineh and Mark Jacobs."

Daryl's pride flared. Like he was gonna let this little bitch tell him what to do. He poked her again, harder this time.

She whirled around, her loose brown curls swinging across her sun-burnt face. "Did you think I was kidding? Stop."

"Ya gunna make me?" Daryl sneered childishly. Her eyes glinted angrily, and her nostrils flared.

"Quit, Daryl," Shane commanded. Daryl wasn't happy about listening to orders, but he did anyways. Still keeping his crossbow aimed on Riley, he came around until he was standing next to the larger man.

"Wait," the brunette said, looking around her feet. "Where's Sky?" Her two friends just shook their heads, confused expressions on their faces. Riley turned around, letting out a short, sharp whistle. Shane and Daryl tensed; any walker close by would've heard. There was a few seconds of tense silence before they started to hear something bounding through the woods. It was faster than any walker, but they weren't taking any chances.

A massive german shepherd bounded out of the tree line, sprinting into the camp. "That's Sky," Riley said.

"Nobody touch it!" Shane shouted, aiming his rifle towards the canine as she started exploring the clearing. The adults looked terrified, but the kids were excited.

"She doesn't have rabies, God. Come!" Riley ordered firmly, making the dog go sprinting to her feet. She sat next to her owner's legs obediently, watching with wide, brown eyes.

"Is it infected?" Andrea asked apprehensively.

"What? God, no! She's completely safe!" To prove her point, she ran her hand over the dog's face. Her tail started beating furiously as she gently nipped her fingers.

"Has she bit any walkers?" Shane demanded, his gun still trained on the mutt.

"That's what you call them? No, she's trained not to bite unless on comand. She was a police dog." Daryl, along with pretty much everyone else in the camp, looked expectantly at Shane.

"You're police?" the woman asked.

"Yeah. I'm Shane." He reluctantly dropped his aim, relaxing the rifle in his hands.

"Okay, Shane, here's the deal," Riley said urgently, stepping closer. "We're running low on supplies. We need help; I have to hunt with one hand and fight with the other. Simmie's really good with kids, and she can help with laundry and whatever else the women do. And Mark's a genius with electrical crap. He can help with the RV and stuff."

"And what about you?" Shane asked.

The corners of her pale lips twisted up into a small smirk. "Me?" she questioned, as if her talents were obvious. "I can do whatever you want me to."

"I migh' take ya up on tha' offer," Merle drawled, standing up from where he'd been sitting and crossing over to the woman. Daryl watched with narrowed eyes as his brother looked Riley up and down. He didn't miss the disgusted look evident on her face, but she didn't say anything.

Merle's eyes shifted over to the beautiful Indian woman standing next to Riley. "Or maybe yer lil' frien' migh' be better."

Riley growled, shifting to her right so she was between Simmie and Merle. Her hand fell warningly on the gun strapped to her hip.

Merle chuckled lowly. "How's a sweet lil' thing like you know how ta shoot a gun? Huh?" He raised a finger and ran it along her jaw line, dropping it to her neck. Her nostrils flared again, and she flushed furiously. "Go on, take yer best shot."

"Cut it out, Merle," Shane demanded tiredly.

"Ya gunna make me?" Merle challenged, turning and spreading his arms out.

Daryl resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The dumbass was obviously high as a kite. He was gonna get himself killed.

Possibly by Riley, who was glaring daggers at the back of Merle's head. Her jaw was clenched, and she still had a hand on her gun. But the little bitch was too pussy to actually defend herself.

Shane sighed and shook his head. "I don't know... What about your dog?" he asked, ignoring Merle.

Daryl resisted the urge to snort. This wasn't gonna end very well; if there was one thing Merle hated most, it was being ignored. That's partly why he was so loud all the time. The other part was just because he liked being a dick.

"I told you she doesn't bite," Riley answered, her voice a little shakey from being so angry. "She listens really well-"

"Hey, I'm talkin' ta you," Merle interjected.

"If she barks, every walker in the area will hear," Shane said, pretending like Merle wasn't there.

Riley shook her head. "She doesn't bark."

Merle strode up to Shane. "Don't act like you can't hear me, meathead."

Riley rolled her eyes. "What are you, two? Grow a pair, and get over it."

Daryl snorted, looking at the ground to hide his amused smile.

Merle spun around, towering over the woman threateningly. "Ya got somethin' to say?"

She bristled, glaring up at him. "You heard me."

"Now you listen here, I'll be damned if I start listenin' to a pussy lil' bitch like you-"

Before he could finish, Riley drew her arm back and punched him, right in the nose. There was a loud crack, and Merle howled in pain, stumbling back and clutching at his face.

She flexed her bloody knuckles, smirking.

Merle flew at her, enraged. Before he could land any hits, she had ducked between his legs, faster than the blink of an eye. One of her feet snaked out, slamming against the back of his knee, making him fall to the ground. She leapt up, as Merle flipped onto his back, starting to get back up.

She pulled out her gun, clicking the safety off and aiming the barrel between his eyes. "I have to warn you: I'm a little trigger-happy."

Merle glared furiously at her. "You gunna help me out, little brother?"

Daryl shook his head, smirking. "Naw, you asked fer it, man."

"Screw you," Merle spat.

"Listen here, I'm not some uppity girl who spends her time folding clothes and daydreaming by the river," Riley hissed. "I know how to shoot, and I know how to fight. Come near me or my friends again, and I won't hesitate to put a bullet through your eyes. 'Kay?" Without waiting for an answer, she straightened up, slamming her gun into its holster and turning her back on Merle.

His pride damaged, Merle scrambled up to his feet, stalking into the woods while muttering colorful profanities.

Shane chuckled. "Well, I guess that answers that question. Yeah, y'all can stay."

A grin flashed across her face, disappearing just as suddenly as it appeared. "Thank you." Shane waved her appreciation away, turning and walking over to Lori.

The trio stood for a moment, sharing glances with each other. Riley turned, her green eyes falling on Daryl, who still hadn't moved.

She crossed over to him, Simmie following close behind. "Simmie can cook those for you," she offered, nodding her head towards the string of squirrels on his shoulder.

"Sure," Daryl drawled, handing the string to Simmie. She eyed the squirrels, looking grossed out, before walking off.

"Your brother's definitely... charming," Riley said, her eyebrow quirking up.

"Yeah, he's a real pain in the ass sometimes," Daryl retorted, shouldering his crossbow and crossing his arms.

"You aren't gonna kill me in my sleep or anything, right?" she asked, looking up at him with wide, green eyes. "For payback?"

"Naw, princess, he had it comin'," Daryl answered, smirking a little. He hadn't been expecting the sudden burst of power from the woman. She had seemed like she'd had a short temper; not someone who would actually act on her anger. Especially not like someone who could beat on his brother. "Where'd ya learn to whoop ass like that?"

She smirked, winking flirtatiously before turning and walking across camp to Shane.

"Whaddaya want me to do, boss?" Riley asked, crossing her arms.

He shrugged, sighing exasperatedly. "Can you cook?"

"Sure, if you don't mind ashes for dinner," she joked, pulling her hair into a ponytail. A stocky black man walked by, an ax resting on his shoulder. "Where's he going?"

He heard her, stopping. "Cut firewood!"

"I can do that!" Riley exclaimed, looking eagerly at the much-taller man.

"Go on, then," Shane stated.

She jogged up to the guy, and they headed for the woods.

"I'm T-Dog," he introduced.

"Riley," she answered. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Mark, talking to an old man on top of the RV, and Simmie, who was talking to a young woman, were watching her. She gave them a tiny nod, her gaze swinging over to Daryl, who was staring at her with narrowed eyes. They made eye contact, and she was the first to look away as T-Dog and her stepped into the forest.

* * *

The sky was darkening and a handful of stars were beginning to twinkle when Riley finally jogged into the clearing for the fifth or sixth time, holding two logs on each shoulder. Sweat trickled down her face as she deposited the last batch into the waist-high pile of firewood. She tucked some stray, brown strands of hair behind her ear, turning as T-Dog followed.

He grinned, panting. The front of his shirt was covered in sweat, and it glistened on his bare head. "Damn, girl," he said, dropping the logs he had been carrying. "You take jogging too seriously."

"Don't be mad because I'm faster than you," Riley teased.

Scoffing in mock-astonishment, he wrapped his arm around her neck, painfully rubbing his knuckles against her head. She resisted the urge to flip him over her shoulder and onto his back, instead just smiling as she pushed against his hands. He laughed, letting her go and stumbling as she shoved his chest.

Sky came bounding up to Riley, jumping up and putting her paws on her shoulders. She licked her face, and Riley smiled even wider, pushing her away. The dog nipped her knee, leaning down close to the ground and bouncing around, wanting to play. She looked around, grabbing a decent-sized stick and chucking it into the air. It sailed down the road, and Sky took off after it, leaving only a cloud of dust in her place.

The slender brunette chuckled, walking over to Simmie, who was cooking (the squirrels, presumably) in a pot over a low fire.

She smiled at Riley. "Hey. How are you?"

"Almost feels like it's not the end of the world," Riley answered bluntly, sitting next to her on the log. She saw Simmie flinch imperceptibly, and Riley immediately felt bad. She set her elbows on her knees, letting her hands dangle between her legs. "Sorry. You?"

"I'm fine," she answered, her eyes taking a haunted look as she turned her attention to the fire. For a moment, she was caught up in some thought, before snapping out of it. "This is Amy and Lori," she introduced, gesturing towards a young blonde and a brunette. Riley nodded at them.

"And that's Carl, he's Lori's son, and Andrea is Amy's sister," Simmie said, pointing at the little boy who was continuing the game of fetch Riley had started with Sky and another blonde sitting on top of the RV in a lawn chair.

Riley tried to ignore the sudden pain that lanced through her heart, feeling her emotionless mask instinctively appear on her face.

"Carl seems to have taken a liking to your dog," Lori stated, trying to start a conversation.

"Sky," Riley corrected, glancing at her. She stood up, brushing the seat of her cargo shorts. Only a few seconds spent with the women, and she was already uncomfortable. This was where Simmie Abutineh belonged, not Riley Todd. "See ya around," she said to Simmie, saluting her as she stepped over the log, walking away.

Riley turned, looking for somewhere to sit. Merle hadn't returned yet, Shane was sitting and talking to T-Dog and a few others, Mark was talking with an old guy and a young Asian kid, and Daryl was sitting alone next to a fire, messing with his crossbow.

Riley crossed over to where Mark was standing with his two friends. "How you doing?" she asked.

"I'm hungy," he answered, staring longingly at the pot that Simmie and Lori were messing with.

"Join the club," the asian kid said, patting Mark's huge back. "I'm Glenn," he added to Riley. "And that's Dale."

The old man smiled and shook her hand, the first person to do so. "Nice to meet you, Riley. Sorry it's under such grim circumstances."

"It's not your fault," she answered, feeling the corners of her mouth twist up just a little.

"Was showing up that Dixon guy a good move?" Mark asked skeptically.

"I thought it was pretty damn amazing," Glenn said, eyes wide.

Riley smiled at his admiration, looking at her feet. "It was nothing."

"You kicked his ass! It was awesome! How'd you learn to fight like that?"

"Let's just hope Dixon doesn't slit my throat in my sleep," Riley joked, ignoring Glenn's question.

Mark scoffed. "Someone slitting your throat? That'll be the day."

Riley shot him a look that clearly said to shut up.

"So, Riley, how are you doing with all...this." Dale waved his hand around, motioning to the current situation.

She shrugged a slim shoulder. "Lucky, as crazy as it sounds. I'm not sure how long I could've kept babying his sorry ass." I nudged Mark's stomach with my elbow.

He rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't have made it a day without me."

"Oh, yes, you constantly sleeping and eating definitely helped me out." Riley winked.

Riley felt Dale scrutinzing her closely. His bushy brows were furrowed as he tried to read her expression. With other people, it was normally pretty simple. But she was impossible to read. Emotions constantly danced on her face, but they were superficial. It was like she had a mask on underneath, but Dale couldn't get through it.

Feeling slightly uncomfortable with Dale's close examination, Riley told the men goodbye and walked away. She stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure of where she could go. She wanted to be alone, but there was nowhere for her to escape.

Her gaze shifted back to Daryl. Whereas everyone else was talking or sitting with somebody, Daryl was alone. Figuring he'd be the perfect people-repellant, Riley made her way over to the brazen redneck, plopping down next to him.

He glanced up, surprised, and did a double-take. "Wha'?" he demanded harshly, turning his gaze back to his crossbow.

Riley shrugged, scooting off the log so she could lean her back against it and stretch out her legs. "Can't a girl just sit for a second?"

"Why don' ya go sit with the other women?" he asked, nodding his head towards Simmie, Amy, and Lori.

"And do some laundry while we gossip about Johnny's newest hairdo? No thanks." Riley's nose crinkled up in disgust.

He grunted in response, turning back to his crossbow.

Riley was happy with this arrangement. She didn't talk to him, and he didn't talk to her. And, since it was clear that nobody else really liked Daryl, they left the both of them alone.

She pulled her gun out its holster, checking the bullets before quickly dismantling the Beretta 92. She cleaned it out and examined it to make sure everything was alright before swiftly putting it back together. She clicked the safety back on, noticing for the first time that it was dark.

Riley settled against the log, observing people through the smoke. She stared at Shane as he and Lori continually stole secretive glances. She immediately knew that something was going on between them, and, whether it was for privacy or another reason, they were keeping it to themselves.

"How'd ya learn ta do that?" Daryl asked suddenly, interuppting the solace of her thoughts.

"To do what?" Riley questioned in confusion, looking up at him.

"Take yer gun 'part," he answered gruffly, his blue eyes shining in the orange glow from the flames.

"Oh, it's just something I've picked up over the years," Riley lied smoothly, no part of her face hinting at the fact that she hadn't told the truth. She wasn't ready to reveal the truth; at least, not yet. She turned back to the rest of the camp, crossing her arms.

They were quiet for a long time, with nothing but the crackle from the blaze in front of them. She had never been one for small talk, and apparently he wasn't either.

The sweet, pungent smell of cooking meat wafted from where Simmie sat across the camp, nearly making her drool. Riley couldn't remember the last time she had eaten something bigger than a cricket. She hadn't been kidding when she said they were struggling; they had been dining on strictly bugs and berries. Well, she'd been. The other two couldn't bring themselves to eat the little insects.

Riley's stomach gave a low growl, and she slapped a hand on top of it, shushing it.

"Don' think it can hear ya, doll," Daryl drawled, humor clear in his deep voice.

"I know," she grumbled unhappily. "How much longer, do you think?"

"'Ey, Lori, how much longer!" he called.

"Hold your horses for just a couple more minutes, Daryl," she answered, not looking up from the pot.

"It'll be a couple more minutes," Daryl stated, a small smirk on his face.

Riley rolled her eyes. "I could've done that." She went back to staring at the fire, focusing on the way the flames twisted around. There was a soft breeze that blew smoke straight into their eyes. It burned her eyes, making her blink and rub her eyes.

With all the people around, Riley actually felt...safe. It was a great feeling. She let herself zone out, her gaze blurrying.

The fire gave a sudden pop, making her jump violently. "Geez," she breathed, her heart racing in her chest.

Daryl chuckled lowly. "Jumpy lil' bitch."

"Whatever," Riley muttered.

"Okay," Lori called, standing and rubbing the seat of her pants. "Dinner's ready."

Riley jumped up, walking around the fire to Lori. She scooped some of the stew into a bowl for Riley, and the younger woman walked away. She sat back down where she had been previously.

Riley tilted the bowl back, the warm liquid nearly scorching her throat. She started coughing but enjoyed the taste nonetheless. She watched as Daryl got some stew, looking at her for a second, wondering if he should sit next to her or not. He eventually came back over, sitting on the other end of the log.

Mark and Simmie came over as well after they finished their meal.

"What's wrong?" Riley asked, immediately knowing something was up.

They shared a glance before sitting on either side of her.

"We don't have a tent," Simmie whispered nervously.

Riley sighed, looking at the ground. "This isn't a bed and breakfast, guys. You just gotta sleep on the ground, okay?"

"Easy for you to say," Mark muttered grumpily, picking up a twig and breaking it in half.

"I'm sorry; you know if I could fix it, I would," Riley snapped sourly.

Simmie put a comforting hand on Riley's arm. "Of course. Goodnight." She stood up, gently taking Mark's arm and leading him away.

Riley scowled, standing up and kicking the dirt. She spotted Shane walking across camp, and she quickly went over, intercepting his path. "Hey, I can take first watch."

"Uh, we've already got a system worked out..."

"And it's all guys, right? The same guys, over and over again. Come on, you all could use a break. Just, let me take first watch, please."

Shane sighed, putting his hands on his hips. His head tilted to the side as he looked at her. "You know what to do if you see something, right?"

"Shoot 'em. This isn't my first rodeo, ya know," Riley stated.

"Fine. If you sit up on the RV, you'll be able to see farther."

"Thanks, boss," Riley said, patting Shane's arm. She went over to the RV, swiftly finding a handhold on the side and hoisting herself up.

"Uh, Riley, you do know there's a way to get up there _inside_ the RV," Glenn said, looking up at her.

"Sure I did," Riley lied, furrowing her brow as she sat down in the lawn chair. She shifted into a more comfortable position, crossing her ankles.

Riley watched as everyone eventually withdrew into their tents. There were only a few night owls still out, including Daryl, when Merle came back. He looked up at the woman on top of the RV and spat, storming into a tent that was separated from everybody else's. Daryl followed him.

Sky trotted up to the bottom of the RV, gazing up at Riley. Her tail wagged slowly before she laid down, brown eyes staring out into the forest.

Riley sat, unmoving, watching the trees. And just when it seemed like the sun had abandoned the earth for good, the sky in the east started to lighten.


	3. Twilight Zone

**Hey guys! Whooo it's election day. Guess who doesn't really care! This girl (: who needs politics anyways.. RICK GRIMES FOR PRESIDENT**

**2**

**Twilight Zone**

* * *

Riley hated dawn.

Some people say it as the start of a new day, or the beginning of a new life, but not her. She saw it as it really was: the end. It was the end of the peace and comfort of night, giving way to the chaos and painful reality of day.

So she sat, frowning, as the sun crawled up into the sky. Its harsh light scared away the dark and the twinkling stars, replacing them with a solid, blue light.

Daryl stepped out of his tent, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. For the first time in a while, he felt completely rested. He scanned the camp, looking at the good amount of people who were awake. His eyes fell on the woman on top of the RV, and he furrowed his brow.

He hadn't been put on watch. That was why he felt so re-energized; he had gotten a full night's sleep.

There was no damn way she was still awake. But as she blinked and shifted, Daryl knew she was. She must've fallen asleep for at least half the night, leaving them completely unprotected.

"Are ya out of yer mind?" Daryl demanded loudly, standing at the bottom of the RV.

"Excuse me?" came the response as she leaned over the side.

"I can't believe ya! You slept that whole time!"

Riley went to the back of the car, quickly sidling down. She came around and stopped in front of the infuriated redneck. "What are you talking about?"

"We let you in our camp, give ya food, an' you leave us all unprotected!" Daryl exclaimed, his voice steadily getting louder. "If ya think yer gunna git ta stay, you've got a new thing comin'!"

"Daryl, I didn't fall asleep!" Riley protested angrily.

Shane stepped out of his tent, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He made his way over to the commotion. "What's goin' on?"

"This bitch says she kept watch all nigh' long and di'n't fall asleep! She's lost her damn mind!"

Shane frowned, realizing that Daryl was right; she had kept watch all night instead of waking any of them up.

"How would you know if I fell asleep, Daryl! You were the one who was out, not me!" Riley defended.

"Let's just calm down here, okay?" Shane intervened.

"No, not okay!" Riley said. "He's accusing me of crap that he doesn't know!"

"I do too know!" Daryl yelled, the veins in his neck bulging. "Ain't nobody can stay up all nigh' and not even be tired!"

"I can!" Riley exclaimed. "I have insomnia; I can't sleep!"

"Now you're making shit up," Daryl growled, never having heard of insomnia.

"It's a mental disorder," Shane explained.

"Oh, great!" Daryl shouted exasperatedly. "We've got a looney hangin' 'round!"

"I am not a looney!" Riley retorted, offended. "I just sleep during the day!"

"You weren' sleepin' yesterday!" Daryl challenged.

"It's kinda hard to sleep when you've constantly gotta look out for walkers!"

"Hey, lower your voices, now," Shane demanded, stepping closer to the two of them. "Riley, you should've said something." Not missing Daryl's triumphant smirk, Shane turned to him. "And you shouldn't run through camp guns ablazin' whenever you get the suspicion that something's wrong. Got it? Now, stop acting like kids and go do something productive." Shane turned and stomped off.

They noticed that everybody was awake now, staring at the two of them. Riley growled, glaring furiously at him, before stalking away. She plopped down on a log, grumbling at her feet.

Who did he think he was? He had no right to accuse her of things! Especially when he didn't have any evidence! And then to call her looney, like she was messed up in the head. Riley Todd may be a lot of things, but a looney was not one of them.

Riley stood up, grabbing a piece of firewood and tossing it into the fire.

"Mom, I'm thirsty," a little girl whined as her and an older woman passed by.

"Go get some water, then, Sophia," her mom replied.

"Shane says there isn't any! He has to get some from the lake!"

"Okay, then just be patient, Sophia." The two walked away.

T-Dog strode up to Riley. "Hey, girl, what was that about with you and Dixon?"

Riley shook her head. "Dumbass came running up, shouting about how I was 'sleeping' during watch." She spotted him from across the camp and fixed him with a heated glare.

"Wait, wait, wait, you sayin' you stayed up all night?" T-Dog asked, incredilous.

"Is there something you wanted?" Riley questioned, putting her hands on her hips.

"Uh, yeah, I'm goin' down to the lake to get some water, wanted to know if you wanted to come," he responded.

"Sure, anything to get away from this damn place," Riley muttered, glancing at Daryl again. He looked at her as well, scowling. He spat, stalking back over to his tent.

T-Dog climbed in the front seat of a black jeep, and Riley hopped into the back, standing as he drove down the dirt road to the quarry. Riley jumped out before the car even stopped moving, pulling out a big, empty, aluminum canister. T-Dog came out, helping her carry it out into the crystalline blue water. They only went about knee deep, dipping it into the water. It was hard to carry back to the car, but they managed. They did it for a couple more tubs before finishing.

Riley jumped into the back again, nearly falling out as the car lurched.

"Easy there!" Riley called, slapping the back of his head.

"Don't mess with me while I'm drivin', girl!" he retorted, grinning as he swatted at her hand.

It took them less than a minute to get back; Riley had to cling to the frame to not fly out of the back. Once they stopped, she vaulted out, struggling to carry the full canister. Shane came over and helped her deposit them next to the RV.

"Thanks," Shane stated.

"Welcome, boss." Riley saluted him with two fingers, walking over to Simmie. She was half-asleep, her black hair a tangled mess. "Looks like someone slept good."

She gave the older woman a sleepy smile. "Not even you and Daryl could wake me up."

Riley huffed. "God, everybody in this camp gossips too damn much," she complained.

"You should get some sleep. You look exhausted," Simmie said worriedly.

Riley _was_ exhausted. She didn't even know how she was still on her feet. Even though she knew that she wasn't in charge anymore, that she didn't have to stay up 24/7 and be aware, there was something in her that didn't want her to sleep. She knew what would come when she slept, and she wasn't ready for it.

"Please, Riley," Simmie begged. "I'll watch you, and you've got a huge group of people here too. You'll be safe."

Riley snorted. "It's not possible to be safe," she muttered, giving in. She followed Simmie, who walked up to Lori and asked if they could borrow her tent for a couple hours. She relented, and the Indian woman led Riley to Lori's tent.

Riley laid down, staring up at the top of the tent. Simmie sat just ouside, zipping up the door.

The last thing Riley ever wanted to do was sleep. It was the single thing that she detested with every bone in her body, but she needed it. It was ironic and twisted, and she hated it.

Against her body's will, her eyelids started to drift shut. She fought valiantly but eventually the need overcame her. She drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Riley's eyes fluttered open, and the sound of screams reached her ears. Confused, she stumbled out of the tent.

The fires were blazing furiously, the flames almost as tall as trees. Smoke clogged the air, burning her throat and nose. She started coughing violently, her neck starting to sweat.

"What's going on?!" she called to Glenn, who sprinted by, ignoring her.

Riley spotted the back of a familiar head. She sprinted over to the Indian, grabbing her shoulder and spinning her around.

At least half of her face had been chewed off. Slabs of flesh hung from her neck, and her glazed eyes glinted hungrily. Simmie lurched fowards, wrapping her cold fingers around Riley's arm.

She howled in pain as the skin tore open, blood pouring from the wound. Simmie's other hand rose to her other arm, and she started pulling the trapped woman towards her open jaw.

Riley slammed her head against Simmie's, causing the latter to cry out and stumbled back.

Clutching her bleeding arm, she turned around, only to be tackled by someone big. She beat at him, struggling to get free.

"You've been scratched!" Daryl bellowed. "I gotta put ya down!"

"Let me go!" Riley shouted, her eyes suddenly flying open.

She gasped as cool air flooded her lungs, her green eyes landing on the form that was fighting off her flailing blows.

"Stop, Riley!" Daryl growled, pinning her legs down and grabbing each of her fists.

She froze, eyes wide as she realized it had just been a nightmare. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her skin was slick with sweat.

"Get off me!" she protested, shoving the redneck off. Pain blossomed in her arm, and she hissed, glancing down. Her arm was bleeding, right where Simmie had scratched her in her dream.

Wait, it had been a dream right? Riley looked around at the ground, staring at the splintered wood that had once been a little stand.

Daryl reached out; to touch her, hit her, hug her, she didn't know. She swatted away his hand, ordering for him not to touch her as she stalked out of the tent.

The sun was beating down mercilessly, and the fires were low. Nobody was running around, nobody was screaming, and nobody was a walker. Everybody was, however, staring nervously at Riley.

Riley noticed Simmie standing nearby, her arms wrapped around her midsection. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, and a nasty-looking bruise was forming on her cheek.

Anger erupted in Riley. Whoever thought it was okay to touch Simmie-

"You started moving around, and I thought you were having a nightmare, so I went to wake you up," Simmie explained, sniffling as a tear slipped down her cheek. Her voice was shaking. "But then you started screaming and flailing around. You broke the table and hit me with your head."

"An' then I had to git involved an' wake up yer sorry ass, so you woul'n't kill nobody," Daryl growled, stepping out of the tent.

Riley passionately wished that she had punched Daryl instead of Simmie. Lord knows he deserved to have been.

Riley rubbed her face, trying to make sense of the situation. Everybody was staring uneasily at her, as if she was a time-bomb that was about to explode.

"I'm sorry, Simmie," Riley said, looking at the woman. "I didn't mean to..."

"I know." She nodded, but refused to meet Riley's gaze. She might've understood, but she was still scared.

"Migh' as well apologize ta me too," Daryl interjected roughly.

"For what? She was trying to help me; you were just being annoying," Riley shot back.

Daryl stepped closer to her, blue eyes narrowing. "Ya call bein' concerned fer everyone's welfare annoyin'?"

Riley barked a loud, fake laugh. "That's cute Daryl; you pretending to care."

His jaw clenched, and he spat at her feet. "Screw you," he growled, turning and stalking away.

"Come on, let's get your arm looked at," Lori muttered, walking forward and gripping Riley's elbow. Riley glared furiously at Daryl's back, wanting nothing more than to stomp after him and kick his ass.

Lori sat her down on a log, pouring some water on a damp rag. She patted it against the younger woman's arm, rubbing away the blood. If Riley wasn't so damn furious, she would be happy that it was barely a scratch, and it wouldn't be impeding her ability to fight or help out around camp.

"You should warn someone that you break things in your sleep before you ask to sleep in their tent," Lori joked lowly, pulling out a bandaid.

"Sorry," Riley apologized. "I would offer to buy you a new one but..."

Lori chuckled. "It's alright." She stuck the bandaid on, the both of them standing.

"A word of advice," she said seriously, her brown eyes fixating on Riley's green ones. "Stay away from the Dixons. They'll rip you apart and hang you out to dry."

Riley prickled at having this woman give her orders. Sure, she was like the first lady, but Riley wasn't about to be happy at taking orders from her. "Thanks," she sneered sarcastically, storming over to where T-Dog was sitting next to the RV.

"Hey, man," Riley greeted, gracefully folding her legs and sinking onto the ground.

"You're one scary bitch, you know that? You fight like the devil even in your sleep."

A small smile flitted across her face. "And I know how to shoot a gun."

"And you know how to shoot a gun," T-Dog scooted away dramatically. "Stay far away from me, man!"

Riley smiled again, looking at her feet. She picked a blade of grass, rolling it between her fingers.

"Seems like you've got it out for the Dixons," T-Dog said. Riley didn't miss the disgust in his voice and immediately knew he wasn't their biggest fan either. "Not that I blame ya or anythin'. But you might wanna be careful biting off more than you can chew."

Riley threw her hands up in the air exasperatedly. "Why is everyone warning me about the Dixons?!" she asked loudly. "I can take care of my damn self!" She fluidly rose to her feet, storming off into the forest.

Daryl looked up from where he was fixing his tent, hearing Riley's prissy outburst. And she even ran away. He snorted, shaking his head.

"Annoyin' piece of ass, tha' one," Merle muttered.

"Amen, brother."


	4. Another Day In Paradise

**Hey everybody! I am SO happy and amazed with the response I'm getting; y'all are the best! **

**I hate waiting between episodes... THIS SUCKS. I MUST KNOW WHAT HAPPENS D:**

**anywayysssss enjoy! and don't forget to review (:**

**3**

**Another Day In Paradise**

* * *

Riley didn't stay in the woods for long. She ran into Sky in the forest, and they sat for a while. Riley was on edge and anxious; her mind was racing while she thought about everything.

Just because she was a girl, nobody thought she could take care of herself. If they only knew the half of it. She had half a mind to storm right back into that camp and tell everyone about her. But she knew better than that. She had to prove herself, and she would do so. It would take some time, but eventually the others wouldn't see her as a helpless little girl who was in over her head.

Once she felt that she had calmed down, she stood up and jogged back to camp, Sky trotting beside her.

Riley came back into the clearing. Shane was talking urgently to Glenn, who looked unhinged. He pulled off his baseball cap and rubbed his head before replacing it. He nodded, and the two parted ways.

Riley crossed over to Glenn, stopping in front of him. "You okay?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Glenn muttered, not making eye contact.

"Glenn," Riley said firmly, seeing right through him.

"Shane wants me to run into Atlanta and get some supplies," Glenn rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"By yourself? Are you suicidal?" Riley exclaimed.

"Maybe," Glenn let out a breathy, nervous chuckle. "But I can get in and get out without being seen. I'm good at it."

"And what happens when you do get seen?" Riley challenged, crossing her arms. "You aren't trained; if you open fire, you'll bring more down on you-"

"I'm not totally helpless," Glenn protested.

"Take me with you." Seeing his immediate denial on his face, she quickly explained herself. "I know how to fight, and I know how to sneak around. You could use me."

"No, Riley," he said firmly. "I'm not taking you! What if something happens?"

"I'll protect us both. Please, Glenn. Sneaking around undetected is kinda my job. Was," she corrected, frowning.

He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know..."

"I swear to God, Glenn, I wouldn't be saying this shit unless I knew I could do it!" Riley exclaimed.

Glenn stared at her for a second. He saw the resolve in her firey green eyes and knew that even if he said no, she would probably follow him anyways. "Fine," he relented. "But you have to keep up and watch your own ass. I don't want have to watch both of ours."

"Yes sir," Riley responded with a smirk. "When do we leave?"

"In a couple of minutes."

* * *

Riley crouched behind the dumpster, peeking around the side. She stared at the department store across the street, analyzing how to get past the half-a-dozen-or-so walkers stumbling around in the road.

"We could go down that alley," Glenn whispered, pointing at a tiny alley across the street next to the store.

"But we would have all of them on our asses. We might as well just run straight up to the store," Riley muttered, shaking her head.

"See the ladder? If we climb up fast enough, then it'll take us to the roof," Glenn stated, pointing at the ladder she hadn't seen.

"Okay," Riley breathed. She pulled back, leaning her spine against the dumpster. She removed a knife from her belt and a hidden one from her left combat boot.

Glenn's eyes widened. "How many more of those do you have?"

She winked. "More than you think. Listen, you run straight to the ladder and do not stop. I'll take care of the walkers. Ready?" He nodded, and she stood, crouching. "Go!"

Glenn took off, sprinting straight towards the alley. He was already halfway across the street before the walkers even realized that dinner was passing by. Riley was right on his heels as he jumped on the ladder.

One lumbered too close, and she swiftly sliced his skull open. She grabbed onto the first rung of the ladder, shouting for Glenn to hurry.

She stabbed another one, quickly cracking its close-behind companion's skull with the hilt of her knife.

She started scuttling up behind Glenn, nearly being jerked off as a walker wrapped its hand around her ankle. She crushed its head with her other foot, scampering up and out of reach.

When they got to the top, Riley quickly checked her ankle to make sure she hadn't been scratched. Seeing that it was fine, she led the way down into the department store.

"What are we looking for?" she asked, glancing nervously at the doors. So far, the walkers hadn't realized that they were in the store.

"Clothes, weapons, food," he answered, tossing over a can of soup. She put it in her bag, walking and grabbing a blanket and some pillows out of a big storage bin.

"Do they even sell weapons in department stores?" Riley questioned, knowing that if there were any weapons they would be near the cash register, in case of a burglary. She started opening drawers, keeping the things she thought they'd need. When she to a locked drawer, she pried it open with her knife.

Jackpot. She pulled out the 9 millimeter, waving it in the air.

"Apparently they do," Glenn answered.

She stuffed the gun at the bottom of her bag, happy to see that there were two extra rounds of ammo.

"There's a hardware store right down the street," Riley stated. "There'll be like hammers and nails and stuff."

"Okay. There's not really anything else here anyways."

The two ascended back to the roof, climbing down the fire escape on the other side of the building. They ducked through alleys, sticking close to walls and cowering behind various items.

It took about ten minutes to get to the store when it would've taken two just walking down the street.

The double doors were chained with a combination, and Riley had to pick the lock with a sewing needle she had hidden in her sock.

"What did you do?" Glenn asked, eyes wide, alluding to Riley's previous occupation.

She just smirked, holding the door as they entered. She rapidly chained the handles together.

"Uh, Riley," Glenn stammered, fear obvious in his voice.

Riley spun around to see about half a dozen walkers in fluroscent-orange home depot vests stumbling towards them. "Shit," she cursed, pulling out two more knives and giving them to Glenn. "I'll distract them; you pick them off."

Riley took off, running right into the middle of the walkers. She stabbed one in between the eyes, slashing off the hands of another one. They all became distracted, focusing solely on her as she danced down an aisle, killing three more.

Glenn stood there for a moment, paralyzed with fear. She's counting on you, man! he told himself, forcing his limbs to move forward.

He stabbed one in the back of the head, making it drop like a sack of bricks at his feet. He jumped back, narrowly missing a walker that had lurched for him. It tripped over its dead companion, and Glenn buried the knife up to the hilt in his forehead.

He struggled to pull it out, finally wrenching it away, making blood splatter everywhere. When he looked up, he saw a walker lurching on him. He couldn't bring his knife up in time- it was falling on him- it was-

There was a whirring noise, like something flying through the air, before the walker froze, inches from Glenn's face. It fell on top of the kid, knocking him to the ground with a loud grunt.

Riley leaned over, removing the knife from the back of the walker's head. She pushed the heavy body off, helping Glenn to his feet.

"You okay, man?"

"Y-Yeah," he stuttered, eyes huge. He looked at the slain bodies of the walkers. He had only killed two, which meant she had killed six walkers single-handedly. "What are you?" he asked nervously.

Riley grinned. "An alien. It's very hush-hush, so keep it quiet," she teased, jogging up and down the aisles. She grabbed anything that wasn't already looted: a couple ropes, a hammer, copper electrical wires, etc.

They met back up at the entrance after only a minute or so of scavenging.

"Ready?" Glenn asked. She nodded, and they went back into the walker-infested streets of Atlanta.

* * *

"We couldn't grab much; we had walkers all over our asses," Glenn explained, as they dumped their supplies in front of Shane.

"Where'd you get this?" the burly man asked, crouching to examine the 9 millimeter.

"A drawer in a department store," Riley answered. "I got two clips, too. I checked all the other drawers, but that's all there was."

He nodded, shoving the gun into the back of his pants. "This isn't nearly enough," he muttered.

"We can go back," Riley offered eagerly.

Shane chuckled, peering up at her. "Careful, you sound almost happy."

She shrugged, smirking. To be honest, she liked going out there. It was like the old days, where her worst enemy was a russian hitman, or the leader of an angry drug cartel. Running behind enemy lines, trying not to get caught while she gathered intelligence. Or, in this case, supplies. It was exhilarating. And it was nice to get away from camp and do something useful.

"Damn you, ya stupid mutt!"

Riley turned to see Merle swinging a baseball bat at Sky, who was dodging it. The fur on the back of her neck was standing erect, and she had her lips pulled back into a snarl.

"The hell are you doing?!" Riley demanded. "Sky, come!"

The dog obeyed, standing next to her owner's legs.

"Tha' piece of trash was snoopin' 'round in our tent!" Merle hollered.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Dixon!" Riley responded, spreading her arms out. "She's a dog; she does what she wants."

"Nex' time I'll put a bullet between her eyes!"

Riley bristled, her eyes flashing. She started to cross over to him, but Shane grabbed her arm. "You do that, and I'll kill you, asshole!"

"Go on an' try," Merle invited, smirking at her fury.

"Stop; he's not worth it," Shane muttered in her ear. "He's just tryin' to get you riled up."

"He's threatening to kill my dog," Riley protested, wanting nothing more than to punch him square in his swollen nose.

"Nothin' you can do about that. He's all talk anyways. Come on-"

Shane was cut off as Sky took off into his tent again. Merle cried out in surprise, but before he could do anything, Sky started barking.

"Shit!" Riley exclaimed, sprinting over to the tent. "No! Sky, stop!"

The dog obediently stopped, but she glared at a book. She growled, her nose pointing at the book. Riley picked it up by its cover, surprised to see it had been hollowed out. Two small bags full of white powder fell out.

Riley scoffed, shaking her head. Should've known.

"Get ou' of there! Ya hear me!" Merle shouted.

Riley stuffed the bags back into the book, hugging it closely to her chest. She stepped out of the tent, jumping away from Merle as he tried to grab her.

"Wha' are ya doin' with my stuff!" he cried.

Riley slammed the book on the ground at Shane's feet. It opened, and the bags fell onto the ground. "Cocaine," she said with a humorless snort. "Douche bag's got cocaine."

"Ya've got no righ' ta be messin' with my stuff!" Merle protested, trying to reach the book. Shane held out a hand, pushing the infuriated redneck away.

Daryl came running into the camp, looking around wildly with his crossbow in his hands. "The hell is goin' on?!"

"This bitch and her mutt took my stuff!" Merle growled.

"This bitch and her mutt found a stash of drugs in your brother's tent!" Riley shouted. "No wonder he's off his ass all the time!"

"What'd ya say ta me, bitch?" Merle demanded, stalking up to Riley, who stuck her chin out defiantly. T-Dog came up to her side, eyeing Merle angrily.

"Okay, okay, let's all just calm down," Morales intervened, stepping between them and putting his hands on their chests.

"It's bad enough I've go' Bessie here tellin' me wha' ta do, now I've got a nigger and a taco vender too!" Merle exclaimed.

T-Dog launched himself at the redneck, and Riley jumped in between. She gritted her teeth as a fist landed on the back of her ribs, pushing T-Dog away.

"Stop, T-Dog, stop!" Riley demanded, shoving his chest violently. She pushed her hair back, looking at everyone before letting a frustrated screech between clenched teeth. She turned and sprinted off down the winding path.

"Damn drama queen," Daryl muttered. "Come on, man." He grabbed Merle and towed him off into the woods, screaming profanities.

* * *

Riley sat at the edge of the quarry, eyes closed. The wind blew her loose curls around her face. She could smell the water, and it made her stomach churn. She focused, instead, on her hearing. She could hear the leaves rustling in the woods not too far away, the few women out washing clothes, she could even hear the dull mutter of the people in camp.

There was the crunch of gravel underfoot as someone walked up behind her, a deep sigh as he sat down beside her.

"How ya doin'?" Dale asked.

Riley inhaled slowly through her nose. "Better."

"Don't take it too personally; the Dixons hate everybody," Dale comforted, patting the woman's back.

Suprisingly, a smile split across the mysterious girl's face. She opened her eyes, which were shining a pale green in the brilliant sunlight. "Aw, and I thought I was special."

They were quiet for a moment as Dale tried to piece together his thoughts into words.

"But that's not what you came to say," Riley stated, glancing at him.

He chuckled. "You're smart when it comes to people."

She shrugged. "It's a talent."

Dale sighed. "Glenn told me that you killed half a dozen walkers by yourself."

"And you're wondering how a girl like me could do that." She nodded in understanding, looking back out at the lake.

"You can't weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet," Dale replied.

"I have years of practice and training under my belt," Riley answered, squinting in the harsh glare of the setting sun. "It doesn't always just take brute strength to kill something, Dale."

Dale nodded, mulling over her words. "We should probably get back. Before it gets dark."

Riley rose to her feet in one fluid, limber motion, turning to help a struggling Dale. He waved her away. "I'm old, but I'm not that old."

She smiled but still had her hands nearby, waiting to catch him if he fell. It took him almost triple the time it took Riley, but eventually he was up and running. They walked back up to the camp, where everyone was sitting around one low fire.

The leftovers from the stew had already been passed out, and Dale and Riley got their small portions from Lori. With an inward groan, she realized that the only available spot was between Merle and Shane. She reluctantly sat down, ignoring Merle's rude comment on her wild hair.

Everyone was talking; even Simmie and Mark. Simmie had become joined at the hip with Andrea's younger sister, Amy. The two were inseparable. Mark was getting pretty close with a guy named Jim. He was a mechanic, and Mark was handy with electronic stuff, so it was no stretch of the imagination for them to be friends. Riley saw Daryl sitting on the other side of Lori, whittling silently at a piece of wood.

He was always quiet when his brother was around. Merle was such a dominant, over-bearing figure that it had to be hard to get to throw your own opinion in. He probably beat Daryl up often when they were younger, and Daryl might've thought he deserved it.

Shane cleared his throat, making everyone go silent and look expectantly at him. "Glenn and Riley went into the city today to get some supplies. They got a few good things, but we're gonna need a lot more to hold us over."

As the reality of what he said hit them, they became somber, shooting nervous glances to each other.

"Tomorrow, Glenn, I'm gonna need you to take a group into Atlanta-"

"No," he answered firmly, the color draining out of his already-pale skin. "No way. I can't bring a group; it was bad enough with Riley."

"Excuse me?" she asked teasingly. "You seem to be forgetting the part where I saved your ass."

"If you hadn't been there-"

Riley cut him off, shaking her head. "You'd still have gone in that store, and you'd be dead. You know I'm right."

The asian kid looked naseous. "Okay, fine," he agreed. "But you're badass!" A soft smile flickered across the woman's lips. "I can't be responsible for a group!"

"Come on, man," Shane urged. "We _need_ supplies. And nobody knows how to get in out like you."

Glenn stared at the fire, silent. "Alright," he finally complied. "But I want Riley, T-Dog, and Morales."

Shane shook his head. "We have to have some gun power. Riley needs to stay here."

Glenn's eyes widened. "But you'll have Daryl!"

Riley's head snapped up, and she met Daryl's gaze with narrowed eyes.

"Daryl's goin' hunting," Shane stated. "You can take T-Dog, Morales, and whoever else wants to go."

After a long discussion, Andrea, Jacqui, and Merle offered to go as well. Daryl was quiet, listening to Merle's loud ramblings. He knew that the stash Riley had found wasn't everything; Merle wouldn't keep all his stuff in the tent. And by the venemous looks Riley was sending his older brother, Daryl guessed that she knew as well. Her stupid dog laying at her feet was glaring at Merle like she knew too.

Daryl scoffed quietly to himself, feeling angry again that the nosey prick had been rifling through _his_ things. He picked up his crossbow and started fiddling with it.

It didn't take long for everyone's superficial happiness to get on Daryl's last nerve. He growled, standing up abruptly and disappearing into the woods.

"Shut up, boss," Riley said, smiling at Shane's teasing comment. She was distracted by Daryl suddenly stalking away.

"What got his panties in a wad?" she asked, watching with unconcealed disgust.

"Prolly the sound o' yer voice," Merle sneered rudely.

Riley ignored him, sharing an exasperated glance with Shane. As people started trickling back to their tents, Riley offered to take watch.

Shane gave her a look like he thought she was joking.

"What?" she asked, the corners of her lips perking up.

"You've slept _maybe_ an hour in the past forty-eight."

"So? I _can't_ sleep at night, and even when I-"

Shane cut her off, shaking his head and waving a hand around. "I don't want to hear it. Get some sleep." Riley sighed. "Okay?"

"Fine," she caved. Shane patted her back before going into his tent. Riley glanced up at T-Dog who was standing on top of the RV. She waited a few minutes until she assumed Shane was asleep before sidling up to the side of the RV.

"Hey, T!" she whispered. "I'm gonna head out into the woods for a lil' bit."

"I don't know-"

She waved away his protest. "If something happens, you'll hear my gun." He didn't look happy, but Riley left anyways.

The moon was full and bright, flitering through the leaves to give just enough light to navigate by. She made notch marks on the trees with her dagger, so she'd be able to find her way back.

After about only half an hour, she came across a small clearing. The moon's silver light made the little area look mystical and spooky. She smiled, sitting down towards the middle. She stared straight out, looking at the dark city of Atlanta. The sight of the dilapidated buildings started to make her think of darker things, so she laid back and gazed up at the sky.

Back in Virginia, she lived so near to D.C. that the smog from the city clouded up the sky. But out here, with the pollution gone, the sky was clear and crisp. A chilly breeze blew through her curls, making the grass and hair twitch.

This was as close to relaxation as she would ever get. Her whole body was tensed, her eyes wide, ears listening intently, but it was the most relaxed she had been in a long while.

There was a rustle in the bushes.


	5. Trust Issues

**Not really much to say this time.. Shocker, I know, haha (; Enjoy! and thanks for all the reviews/faves/follow. I LOVE YOU.**

**4**

**Trust Issues**

* * *

Riley leapt to her feet, pulling out her gun and spinning around in one fluid motion.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Daryl said, stepping out of the woods with his hands spread apart. One of his hands had his crossbow held firmly in its grasp. "Easy there, princess."

Riley dropped the aim of her gun just an inch. "What do you want?" She didn't trust that he wasn't going to try and kill her.

"Saw yer notches on the trees; got curious." He pointed a thumb behind him.

"What are you doing out here _so late_," Riley corrected.

"What are _you_ doin'?"

"I asked you first," Riley stated, a superficial smirk appearing on her face. "And I've got a gun on you."

"Ya don' really trust people, do ya?"

She snorted. "Nobody worth trusting." She stared at him for a second, finally pocketing her gun.

He smirked. "Wha'? Ya think I won't kill ya?"

"You won't," she answered surely, turning her back on him and sitting.

He was tempted to shoot an arrow through her shoulder, just to prove her wrong. "Ya never answered my question," he pointed out.

"Because I asked you first," she returned.

"Jus' walkin' 'round, I guess," he answered. "Your turn."

She shrugged, picking a blade of grass and rolling it between her thumb and index finger. "I'm not a very good sleeper."

He scoffed. "Never woulda guessed tha' one. Wha' if a walker came out?"

"I'd kill it. They make a lot more noise than you do."

Daryl grunted.

"So, you seriously are just walking around the woods? Looking for a walker to cuddle with?"

"I got this," Daryl retorted, tossing a dead owl over her shoulder and into her lap.

Her eyes opened wide, and she exhaled shakily and pushed the poor thing away. "Good."

"Wha'?" Daryl asked, smirking. He picked it back up, happy to find that there was some way under the woman's thick skin. "Don' like dead animals?"

"Bambi," she offered, smiling darkly at him.

"You see Bambi, I see supper."

Riley loved animals with a passion. They were so sweet and loving; so unlike humans, who were cold and capable of so much horror. Animals didn't cause you pain; they loved you unconditionally. They didn't know how to be evil. Riley had seen enough evil to be sick of the entire human race. And, as if what she'd seen wasn't enough, now they came back from the dead as rotting corpses intent on eating living flesh.

She stood up, turning around and heading into the woods.

"Where ya goin'?"

"Back to camp," she threw over her shoulder, stepping carefully over a fallen log. The leaves crunched loudly under her feet, but she didn't hear anything from Daryl. Wondering if he was even behind her, she glanced.

"Wha'?" he demanded, right behind her.

She just faced forwards again, trying to be quiet too. It didn't quite work. Daryl was as silent as a ghost, while she sounded like a wounded elephant.

"Try an' be a lil' louder," Daryl sneered.

She held up her middle finger behind her back, stepping into the clearing and ignoring Daryl's snicker. She didn't miss T-Dog's amazed (and creeped out) stare as she swung up onto the top of the RV.

She sat down, pulling out her Beretta and trying to remember the names for all the parts as Daryl ducked into his tent. "Spit it out, T."

"This mornin' you hated Dixon."

"Still do," she retorted, even though 'hate' was a very strong word for her feelings towards him. It wasn't much of a stretch, however. "We ran into each other in the woods."

T-Dog nodded, but Riley could tell he didn't believe her. He could think what he wanted.

"You can go to sleep; I'll keep watch," Riley told him, crossing her legs and staring out at the woods.

"Shane'll be pissed," he warned.

"There's nothing I can do. I can't fall asleep, and I'm not just gonna sit and have both of us be awake when you don't need to be," she snapped. To be honest, she was getting sick of having someone else in charge. She had liked not having to listen to anybody else's orders. Being able to do what she wanted had been fantastic.

"Damn, girl," T-Dog said defensively, standing up and climbing down the RV. "No need to take it out on me," he grumbled, disappearing into a tent.

Riley sighed, shaking her head as she braced her elbows on her knees and waited for the morning.

* * *

Lori was the first one awake. She stepped out of her tent, running a hand through her messy hair. She looked up at the top of the RV, squinted eyes falling on the younger woman's form.

"Did you stay up all night again?" she called, hooding her gaze with her hand.

Riley nodded, resisting the urge to yawn. She was completely and utterly exhausted. Her eyes were starting to droop on their own accord, and she felt like she was going to keel over on her side any second. "Hardly," she responded with a weak smile.

"That's it, come on," Lori ordered, waving for her to descend. The brunette complied, climbing down. Lori put a hand on her elbow, steering her back to her tent.

"Hey Carl, honey, I need you to stay outside for a little bit, okay?" Lori said gently to the boy who was sitting up.

"Don't kick him out," Riley protested feebly.

"And keep him here while _you_ sleep? I don't think so," Lori teased. "Now, come on. Out."

Carl obediently left, and Riley dropped onto the thin blanket spread across the ground. Lori bustled around, moving out any items that could be of harm. Riley fell asleep before she even left the tent.

As soon as Simmie woke up, she knew that something was going on. It was a tingling that Riley often called her "spidey senses". She looked around the camp, full save for the few late-risers (Mark, Glenn, T-Dog, etc). Pulling her thick black hair into a low ponytail, Simmie walked over to where Amy was talking to Lori.

"Good morning," the Indian woman greeted, reaching out and touching Amy's arm.

"Morning!" the blonde chirped.

"Have either of you seen Riley?" Simmie questioned.

"Yeah, she's sleeping in my tent again," Lori answered.

"Thanks," Simmie murmured, stepping around people to make it to the tent. She peeked through the little gap at the top that was unzipped, seeing her friend laying on her back. Even in her sleep, Riley looked menacing and stressed. The bags under her eyes were starting to look more like bruises. It was good that she was finally sleeping.

Simmie sat outside of the tent, knowing that it would make her friend feel better. With a sigh, she watched her fellow survivors. She had no clue how Riley could judge who someone was, how they acted, what happened in their past, just by looking at them. Simmie never knew what someone was going to do next. Simmie always admired that about her best friend; she knew who the bad people were.

"What are you doing?" Andrea asked, stopping in front of Simmie.

"Watching her," she answered. "She gets nervous sleeping."

Andrea smiled, nodding.

"When are y'all leaving?"

Andrea looked at her fellow travelers, who were mulling around in the middle of camp. "Now, I think."

"Be safe," Simmie urged, standing up and giving the woman a hug.

"Oh- you too," she returned, surprised by the affectionate gesture. She started towards the group, turning and walking backwards as she remembered something. "Hey, keep an eye on Amy for me!"

"Of course!" Simmie returned, watching as Daryl started milling on the edges of camp. She felt a stir of unease in her gut. The reckless hillbilly made her nervous. He was rude, off-standish, and all-around bad. Simmie tried to tell herself not to judge him; she had been scared of Riley at first, too. Daryl disappeared into the woods, and Simmie sat back down.

Simmie wondered if she should wake Riley up. The woman would want to see the group off, no matter how much she hated goodbyes. She'd at least want to know that they were leaving.

Simmie glanced in the tent. Riley was still out; her chest rising and falling slowly. She decided against it; robbing her friend of any chance to sleep seemed wrong.

It was only about two hours before fidgeting noises started coming from inside the tent. Simmie looked in to see Riley was tossing fitfully in her sleep, lips forming silent words. It was only a matter of time before she would start screaming.

Simmie reached out and tapped the bottom of her friend's combat boot.

Riley sat bolt-upright, ripping her gun out of her holster. Halfway through the motion, either sleep caught up with her or she realized it was Simmie or for some other reason, she paused, holding the gun over her lap.

"What's going on?" she demanded, her eyes cautious and narrowed.

"Nothing; you started having a nightmare," Simmie responded.

Riley shoved the gun into her holster, pushing her hair back like she always did when she got flustered or upset.

"Are you sure it's safe to sleep with a gun?" Simmie questioned, leaning back so Riley could crawl out.

Riley just raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly.

"Right. Stupid question," Simmie admitted, smiling a little.

"Yeah. Have they left yet?" Rikey asked, retying her boots.

"About two hours ago, yeah."

Her green eyes widened. "Two hours? How long have I been asleep?"

Simmie shrugged. "When I woke up, you'd already been asleep for an hour or so."

Riley rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms, her lips forming something between a smile and a grimace. She stood up, helping Simmie to her feet as well.

"What are you going to do today?" Riley asked, walking in step with her smaller friend.

"I don't know. Whatever Lori wants me to do, I guess." So she had noticed that Lori was the first lady too.

"Good," Lori perked up from where she was sitting right next to us. She handed Simmie a bucket, smiling. "Go get us some mushrooms."

"Okay," Simmie agreed, walking off towards the woods. Riley followed, whistling for Sky to come as well.

While Simmie stared at the ground for mushrooms, Riley skimmed bushes and vines for fruit. Sky just ran around in large circles, often disappearing from sight.

"So, how are you doing?" Simmie questioned, digging her fingers into the soft earth around a few mushrooms.

"Better, now that I've slept," Riley answered, slipping out of her t-shirt and exposing the dirty white tanktop underneath. She started plucking some muskadines off a vine, wrapping them in her shirt.

"I should've asked Glenn to get you some sleeping pills," Simmie realized regretfully. The bags under Riley's eyes were starting to look painful.

Riley shot her a condescending glance. "You know I hate sleeping pills. They make me too drowsy."

"You're gonna kill yourself," Simmie returned, frowning. She stood up and kept walking.

"I've made it through a lot worse than some sleep deprivation," Riley stated, her head constantly swiveling around as she watched for danger. Not even in a camp full of strong men did she feel as safe as she did with Riley. With the older woman, Simmie was able to relax, knowing she'd be safe.

"I know, but-"

Riley smiled warmly at her friend. "Simmie. I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

They stepped into a tiny clearing. Simmie plopped down on a huge tree root, stretching her legs out. Sweat was starting to drip down the Indian's back as Riley crouched next to a vine, plucking off the brilliantly red berries.

"I would love some strawberries," Simmie remarked.

Riley smirked. "Let me get right on that."

"Good," responded Simmie with a light giggle.

Riley leaned back on her haunches, pushing some loose strands of hair back. Sky came bounding into the clearing, nuzzling Riley's face. She pushed the dog away, trying to keep the handful of berries cupped in her hand.

Sky's ears suddenly perked up, and she let out a low growl, glaring across Riley and ino the woods. Alarmed, her head jerked around, left hand instinctively reaching for the knife strapped on her thigh.

Daryl stepped into the clearing, hunting knife clenched in his hand. He mirrored their surprised looks. "What are y'all doin'?" he asked.

"Looking for 'shrooms and berries," answered Riley, raising her hand to show the fruit gathered in her palm. She plucked a few from her collection and tossed them down her throat.

Daryl's eyes widened hugely as he lurched forwards, knocking the berries out of her hand. Her angry cry of protest was cut off as he roughly cupped her chin. "Spit 'em out! Did ya swallow 'em?!"

Riley slammed her hands against his chest, causing him to fall back on his haunches. They both leapt to their feet.

"What the _hell_-"

He threw his hands furiously up in the air. "Fine! Die fer all I care; them there's _nightshade_."

Riley's eyes grew huge as she realized what he was saying. Simmie shot to her feet in horror at mention of the poisonous berries, but Riley was already on her knees, shoving her finger down her throat. Vomit spewed out of her mouth, and Simmie had to look away so she wouldn't get nauseous.

"Did ya eat any?!" Daryl demanded to Simmie.

She shook her head, watching as Riley stood up. She was trembling a little, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Are you okay?" Simmie asked anxiously.

Riley nodded, turning her cautious gaze to Daryl. "Are you stalking me?"

He stared at her for a second. "Are ya shittin' me? I'm huntin'. _Your welcome_ ya dumb bitch." He spat on the nightshade, brushing past Riley and disappearing into the forest.

Riley rolled her eyes. "Damn drama queen," she muttered.

* * *

It was getting late. Riley would be lying if she said she wasn't worried. She was sitting near the RV, listening for any sounds on the walkie talkie as she mashed the berries she had picked earlier. Simmie was sitting silently next to her, watching Amy pace back and forth.

A growl of thunder echoed overhead, and Riley's eyes flickered up to the cloudy sky for just a second.

The transmission started crackling, and T-Dog's fuzzy voice came through asking, "Is anybody there?"

Riley jumped to her feet, walking up to the RV, Simmie right behind her. Dale quickly spoke into the walkie.

"We're trapped in the department store," T's voice said, loud and clear.

Riley growled, shaking her head. "I should've gone," she muttered.

"We're surrounded," was the last thing they heard before it was all static.

There was silence as everyone looked to Shane, wondering what to do.

"Shane-" Lori started.

"No way. We aren't riskin' the rest of the group for them," he answered firmly.

"Then just let a few of us go," Riley stated. "Me, you, Jim, Daryl; anybody who can fight."

"And leave everybody else unprotected? You know that's not an option," he responded, his dark eyes unable to meet anybody's gaze.

"So we're just gonna leave her there?" Amy demanded.

"I know it's not easy-" Shane said, stepping towards the infuriated woman.

"She _volunteered_ to go. To help us."

"She knew the risks. She's trapped; she's gone. You're just gonna have to deal with it," Shane stated a little harshly.

Riley and Simmie shared a glance. Simmie's brown eyes were wide and pricking at the corners with tears.

Amy stared at him in shock for a few seconds. "She's my _sister_, you son of a bitch," she growled, running off down the road.

Riley sighed, and Simmie squeezed her elbow before taking off after the blonde. "Amy!"

Shane turned and made eye contact with Riley for a second. Riley shook her head, frowning in disapproval before stepping over to the clothesline to hang up the rest of the clothes. She opposed doing the women's work, but she wasn't going to just sit around and do nothing.

A fat raindrop hit her nose. She looked up as the clouds opened up, releasing a torrent of rain.

She quickly pulled out her ponytail, shaking her hair down around her shoulders. Several people ran into tents or under the RV, trying to get out of the divulge.

She grabbed the clothes and stuffed them under a rock, trying to keep them dry as she quickly became soaked. Her hair stuck to her back; water rivulets trickling down her face.

"Even the freaking rain is hot here," she muttered, missing the cool Virginia summers.

"You'll get used to it!" Dale shouted from next to the RV.

Riley smiled and rolled her eyes, glancing up as the rain ended just as suddenly as it started. She scoffed. "The weather always like this?" she questioned Dale, pointing up at the sky.

Dale nodded, and Riley scoffed again, rehanging all the clothes. The humidity seemed to have gotten a hundred times worse, and Riley sighed. _Maybe I could convince them_ _to go up to Virginia or something_, she thought wryly. Yeah right. The southeners way outnumbered her.

Only about twenty minutes later, she started to hear something. Brow furrowed, she jumped up, running over to where Simmie and Amy were getting out of lawn chairs. Riley grabbed Simmie's arm, holding the younger woman behind her as she stared out at the cliffs.

"Is that a car alarm?" Simmie asked, confused.

"What do you see?" Riley called up to Dale, hand reaching down to her gun on her hip.

"Stolen car's my guess," he answered.

They watched as a blaring red Camaro flew recklessly up the dirt road, churning up gravel and clouds of dust. It slammed to a stop, and a grinning, red-faced Glenn stepped out.

Instantly, he was barraged with questions and orders and people shouting at him. Riley pulled Simmie closer, muttering reassuringly in her ear, "Everybody's okay. He wouldn't be so happy if they weren't."

Shane silenced the vehicle, and Glenn answered Amy's frenzied questions. "Everyone's okay! Well... Merle not so much."

Shane scolded Glenn for driving the incredibly-loud vehicle up to camp. Riley completely agreed with him; any walker in a two-mile radius would have heard.

"Sorry," Glenn apologized. "Got a cool car," he said meekly.

Riley snorted, unable to stop the smile creeping onto her face. Stupid, careless Glenn. She was glad he was okay.

A van pulled up, silent as a ghost compared to the Camaro. Andrea jumped out of the car, crying and grabbing onto Amy.

Riley's gaze flickered down as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Simmie put a hand on her back, looking at her with concerned eyes. "You okay?"

Riley nodded, clearing her throat and rubbing her face. "Fine, fine." Morales, Jacqui, and T-Dog all followed next.

Riley waved to Morales and Jacqui, before being scooped into a bear hug by T-Dog.

"Damn girl, we coulda used you out there!" he exclaimed.

Surprised, Riley returned the hug as T-Dog put her down. "Missed you too, T," she responded with a smile. T nodded at Simmie, wandering off towards the rest of the camp.

Glenn came over as well, and Riley smiled. "Thanks for not dying on me, partner." She patted his back as he perked up.

"Partner?" he repeated happily.

Riley chuckled as Simmie hugged the Asian boy.

A sudden commotion distracted them, turning their gazes over to a man who was clinging onto Lori and Carl, crying. "Dad!" Carl screeched.

"Oh my God," Riley breathed as Lori and Shane made guilty eye contact over the man's shoulder. This meant there was gonna be a helluva love triangle.

* * *

Once darkness had fallen, they all grouped around the campfire. Riley listened somberly to his story; she couldn't help but be surprised at his courage and strength. Most people would've just given up instead of plowing on.

Riley watched silently as Shane dealt with the lumbering oaf of flesh that was Ed. When he returned, she spoke up for the first time, "So, what happened to Merle?"

Rick stared at her, remorsefully relaying the story. She listened, tongue in cheek, watching some of the other's faces turn to grimaces. It was a cruel way to go, for sure, but Merle had been threatening the group. Riley couldn't be sure that she wouldn't have done the same thing.

"I dropped the key. That makes him mine," T-Dog countered, talking about who got to break the news to Daryl. His skin looked a paler hue than normal. Riley didn't blame him; she pissed Daryl off all the time, but she didn't kill his brother. He was going to be off the rails.

"Riley should tell him," Glenn stated.

She snapped her gaze up to the Korean, eyebrows almost at her hairline. "Why?"

"Y'all like each other, right?" Riley's surprised expression turned to a condescending, are-you-kidding-me look. "Well, you talk to him more than anybody else!"

"No, I _yell_ at him. He hates me more than anyone else in this camp," I retorted.

"But you talk to him," Amy pressed, seeing Glenn's logic. "He knows you more than anyone else."

These people had lost their damn minds! In what _world_ was hate and friendship so easy to get mixed up? She rose quickly to her feet, aggravated. "I don't have to do shit. I didn't leave his brother to die of starvation." She stalked over to the RV, gracefully swinging up to the top and laying on her back as she struggled to calm herself.

People were insane... Daryl hated Riley, and Riley hated Daryl. It was easy, it was simple, and they didn't have to worry about any other emotions coming to play. The hate ruled out all of them.

Not too much later, Shane climbed up as well, taking a seat in the lawn chair.

"You okay?" Riley questioned, instantly knowing something was up.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, fine," Shane lied.

Riley turned onto her stomach, locking gazes with the man for a few seconds. She saw straight through him, and he knew it.

"Look, I don't wanna talk about it, okay?" Shane said, flustered.

"You don't have to," Riley responded. She laid back down on her back, staring up at the sky as lightning danced across the clouds. Low rumbles of thunder echoed around the cliffs in their quarry, and she shut her eyes, reveling in the cool breeze blowing on her skin.

A fat raindrop fell on her cheek. She wiped it away. It was quickly followed by hundreds more, and she ducked next to Shane under his umbrella, hunkering down for the storm.


	6. Wanna Be Free, Throw Your Hands Up

**Hello everybody! Here's the next chapter for you guys. (:**

**5**

**Wanna Be Free, Throw Your Hands Up**

* * *

Morning came sooner than expected.

Shane had thrown in the towel after only a few hours of staring dejectedly at Rick and Lori's tent, leaving Riley to her own devices. When the sun started creeping up, she descended the ladder on the RV, sitting near the middle of camp. She started stretching her cramped muscles as the sky lightened.

What she really needed was a workout. A long, gruesome, exhausting workout that made her body sore. Maybe she could go for a run; a long one, at least seven or eight miles.

Riley nodded to her fellow survivors as they woke, all going to their separate jobs. Eventually the new guy left his tent, crossing over to Riley as she stood.

"I don't think I've introduced myself yet," he drawled, extending a hand. "Rick Grimes."

"Riley Todd," the brunette remarked, firmly shaking his hand.

"Nice to meet you," he said in his comfortingly sexy voice before walking over to Glenn.

Riley went over to where Lori was hanging clothes and started helping. They exchanged muttered "Good mornings" before Rick came over to them. Knowing that Rick and Lori were about to have a marital spat, Riley relocated to Amy, Andrea, and Simmie's laundry-folding session.

Just as she got there, two high-pitched screams pierced the air, making Riley's blood run cold. She took off towards the sound, arriving before anyone else.

The walker had his back to her, hunkering over the body of a dead deer. The able-bodied men joined her after a second as the geek stood up and slowly turned around.

Rick hit him first, knocking it hard enough to make it turn. Riley danced forwards, slashing the back of its knees and making it pitch onto the ground. They all gathered around the writhing body, bludgeoning it mercilessly. Riley repeatedly kicked its head until Dale sliced the neck, making the skull roll away.

"What the _hell_ is it doing up here?" Riley asked, staring at the corrupted body. She hadn't seen any walkers outside of Atlanta, much less all the way up their little mountain.

"They never come this far up," Dale said, echoing Riley's thoughts.

"They're running out of food in the city," Jim stated bluntly.

A loud rustling in the woods made Riley step forwards, clenching her knife tightly.

She let out the breath she'd been holding. _Just Daryl_, she thought to herself in relief as he stepped out of the trees. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Rick's uneasy expression. She remembered what was about to go down and got anxious all over again. Daryl was going to lose it.

"That's a damn shame," Daryl growled, staring disgustedly at the deer. "I got us some squirrels, though. Those'll haveta do."

"Joy. More squirrels," Riley muttered sarcastically. If she ate anymore of the fuzzy rodent, she swore she'd be sick.

Daryl turned an angry gaze on her. "Don' see ya contributin' any, so shut up." He paused for a second, staring at her. Damn, kinda hoped tha' nightshade woulda gotten ta ya."

"Sorry to disappoint," she sneered, crossing her arms as he stormed by, calling out for Merle's name.

Riley walked over to where Simmie and some of the other women were standing as Shane broke the news to Daryl.

Daryl instantly grew somber, looking at the ground. "He dead?"

"Not sure," Shane responded.

Daryl jerked his fiery gaze up. "Either he is or he ain't!" he shouted.

Riley watched as Rick bluntly explained the situation. Daryl turned his back on them for a second, dragging his arm across his eyes.

Riley's heart clenched, and she tightly crossed her arms under her chest. Instantly, she felt her emotionless mask settle instinctively on her face.

"Lemme process this- you handcuffed my brother to a roof, and _YOU JUST LEFT HIM THERE?!"_

Nobody bothered to tell him to keep his voice down. Mostly because everyone was intimidated by the infuriated redneck, but for Riley it was because she knew he was grieving. And his grief at losing a sibling was tearing open old wounds for her.

Simmie noticed the steely look in her friend's eyes. Most people thought Riley was cold and didn't care about anybody, but Simmie knew that wasn't true. She watched as Riley's hand fluttered up to her neck, pulling the necklace out of her shirt and clutching the pendant. Simmie wrapped one arm around her waist and held onto her elbow with her other hand.

"You okay?" she whispered so no one else would be able to hear.

Riley's jaw clenched as Shane pulled Daryl to the ground in a chokehold. She listened intently to what was being said, trying to block out her darkening thoughts. After a moment, Shane let go of Daryl.

T-Dog suddenly spoke up, telling the redneck about the key he had dropped. That was a little too perfect, Riley thought. For him, of all people, to "accidentally" drop _Merle's_ key. But Riley knew T, and she knew he wouldn't do that to somebody.

For a second, Riley thought Daryl was going to break down. His choked sob made her stomach tighten up, and she let out a sharp exhale.

Think of something else, she pleaded with her mind. The last thing she wanted was to have a meltdown in front of everyone at camp.

Daryl stood up, yelling at T-Dog for a second. From this distance, she could see the red rimming his eyes. Riley struggled to contain her emotions. She felt bad for Daryl, she really did, but he wasn't the reason she was about to break. She tightened her grip on the tear-drop shaped pendant, dropping her gaze to the ground.

"I'm goin' back," Rick said firmly, turning and walking away towards his tent. Daryl stormed off, and Riley didn't move, struggling to control herself.

"While you were in South America, I met that really rude guy in your apartment building. You know, the redneck one."

Riley nodded, listening to Simmie's voice as she tried to distract her friend from her spiraling thoughts.

"He has to be the meanest man in the whole country. He makes Daryl look like a teddy bear."

Riley snorted, a tiny smile flickering on her face. "I wouldn't go that far."

"Well, obviously, he doesn't talk to you the way he did me. I thought for sure he was gonna rape me."

"But he didn't," Riley said, looking at Simmie.

The woman grinned, showing off her white teeth that were such a contrast to her dark skin. "Nope, because he knew you'd kill him."

"Got that right," Riley agreed with a disdainful sniff. "I hate that guy." She didn't add that she hoped he was dead; that might've been too cold for Simmie.

"Everybody does," Simmie chimed, knowing that she had saved Riley from herself.

"That's just great. Now you're gonna risk three men," Shane sneered.

"Four," T-Dog added.

"Five," Riley corrected, stepping forwards and dropping her necklace back down her shirt. "I'm going too."

Shane looked like he was about to bust a cap. Daryl snorted, his attention on his arrows. "My day just keeps gettin' better and better."

"You see anybody else offerin' to save your brother's ass?" T-Dog demanded, taking the words out of Riley's mouth. Daryl didn't get the option to be picky.

"Why you?" Daryl asked.

"You wouldn't even begin to understand," T-Dog responded, shaking his head.

"Wha' 'bout you?" Daryl questioned gruffly, glancing up at Riley for a second.

She shrugged. "Don't know how many more loads of laundry I can take," she answered, even though she had yet to do one load.

"I don't know..." Rick said. "It's gonna be dangerous-"

"Don't immediately put me down just because I'm a woman," Riley spat angrily. "I know how to shoot, and I know how to fight. You can ask Merle Dixon's broken nose when we find him."

Rick shot a questioning glance towards Shane, who shook his head aggravatedly. "You're puttin' all of us at risk; takin' all the gun power and leavin' all the women and kids behind without protection?"

Riley listened as Rick explained the real reason he had to get the bag of guns back from Atlanta before she felt someone tap her elbow. She turned, looking in surprise at Simmie's anxious face.

Immediately knowing something was wrong, Riley grabbed the younger woman's elbow, leading her out of earshot. "What's up?"

Simmie shook her head. "I don't want you to go."

Riley's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"Stay. I don't feel safe when you're gone, and I get so worried- I can't take it." Tears swam in the woman's eyes, and her lip was trembling.

"Simmie, you don't have to worry about me. You know I've been through a helluva lot and it hasn't killed me yet. I'm not about to let dead people take me-"

"I'm serious," Simmie growled. "What has Merle Dixon done for you?"

"You know I can't just sit back. You'd want me to do it for your brother, if it were you."

"I know why you're really doing this. Helping Daryl won't bring her back-"

"I know that," Riley snarled as pain suddenly lanced through her heart. "I promise I'll be back, okay? Soon." Riley pulled her friend into a tight hug.

"Be safe," Simmie muttered.

The van's horn blared, pulling Riley away from Simmie.

"C'mon, let's go!" Daryl shouted. Riley jumped into the back of the car, followed by Sky.

"Uh, uh, stay!" Riley ordered, pushing the dog out of the van. The dog looked up, confused, as Daryl pulled the back door down.

* * *

Simmie watched dejectedly as her best friend drove away. Sky looked just as sad as Simmie felt, turning to look at the Indian woman. She trudged up, tail tucked between her legs.

Simmie crouched down next to her, rubbing her head. "She'll be back soon, don't worry."

Sky pressed her nose against her neck before walking into the woods.

"Hey, Simmie, come help with the laundry!" Amy called, holding a bucket on her hip.

Simmie stood up, following the women down to the quarry. She sat next to the water, dipping the clothes into it and scrubbing them clean with her hands. Her attention was pulled to where Shane and Carl were splashing around in the lake.

"I'm starting to question the division of labor around here," Jacqui said disdainfully.

"The world ended, didn't you get the memo," Amy responded, smiling.

"I didn't even like doing laundry when I had a washing machine," Simmie complained, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Don't be such a negative nelly," Amy retorted, splashing the other woman.

"Shut up." Simmie rolled her eyes, smiling and splashing Amy back.

"I miss my Maytag," Carol reflected.

"I miss my phone... And texting," Amy added dreamily.

"Who would wanna text you?" Simmie teased.

Amy scoffed, dropping the shirt she was holding and shoving Simmie's head underwater. Unprepared, Simmie jumped out of the water, gasping for air as the other women laughed.

"I will get payback, Amy," she warned, grinning.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll sleep with a football helmet on."

After a silent pause, Amy admitted, "I miss my vibrator."

Carol glanced over her shoulder before quietly confessing, "Me too."

They all cracked up. Looked like Ed wasn't so good in the sack.

Speaking of the large man, he hunkered over, looming over them with his cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Simmie, along with the rest of the women, fell silent. She started to get anxious, internally urging him to leave.

_If only Riley was here_, she thought, her eyes focused solely on the shirt she was washing. Riley would tell him off.

"Problem, Ed?" Andrea demanded.

Well. Maybe Andrea could be their temporary Riley.

"None that concerns you," he retorted, turning his attention to his wife. "You oughta be focusing on your work."

That's not fair, the Indian thought as she wrung out one of Glenn's shirts and passed it to Jacqui. Carol was working the hardest out of all of them.

"You know what Ed?" Simmie jerked her gaze up as Andrea stepped towards the smoking man. "Don't like how your laundry's done? Do it yourself." She tossed the wet shirt at him.

He flung it back, making Simmie gasp and her heart clench. She hated fights, and this was one Andrea would lose.

"Sure ain't listenin' to sum smart-talk uppity bitch," Ed stated, taking another drag from his cig. "Come on now," he said to Carol, who obediently stood up.

"I don't think she should be going anywhere with you," Andrea retorted.

Simmie put her hands up, blocking the older woman's path. "I think you should stay," she begged. This was going to get ugly very fast; Andrea wasn't going to give up, and someone was going to get hurt.

"So she can show up with fresh bruises later, Ed?" Jacqui demanded, her voice sharp and tight. "We've all seen 'em."

Simmie's eyes widened. How had she missed that? It suddenly explained all the contusions that Carol always struggled to explain.

No way was she just gonna stand by and let Ed beat Carol. He gripped one of her arms tightly, and Simmie reached forward and gently took the other. "Carol, no-"

She was cut off as Ed slapped Carol. Right across the face. In front of all of them.

Simmie started beating madly at one of his arms, trying to pull him away from Carol. She succeeded, but only to be rammed in the face with his elbow. She stumbled back, seeing stars, as she cupped her eye and cheek. Pain exploded through her face.

Shane, out of nowhere, suddenly appeared, gripping Ed by the back of the shirt and throwing him on the ground. She watched in horror as he started to beat the living daylights out of Ed. As blood started forming, she buried her face in Jacqui's back, who turned and wrapped her in a hug. Simmie clenched her eyes shut tightly, flinching each time a punch fell.

"Next time, I will not stop," Shane promised, standing up and kicking him in the side.

Carol ran over to Ed, crying and apologizing. For what, Simmie wasn't sure. She was sure that Shane had gone too far, and that her face hurt, and that tears were swimming in her eyes.

"Come on, baby, let's get your face looked at," Jacqui comforted, wrapping an arm around Simmie's shoulders and leading her away and back up to camp.

* * *

Riley and Glenn held open the hole in the fence, waiting as everyone filed through before following.

"Merle first, or guns?" Rick asked, keeping up the brisk half-run half-walk.

"Merle! We ain't even havin' this conversation!" Daryl exclaimed.

"Yes. We are," Rick answered in a tone that left no room for questions.

"We're gonna get him either way," Riley added. Daryl shot her a venomous glare that she ignored.

"Merle first," Glenn stated as they started jogging.

They made it to the department store without a problem. Daryl swiftly dispatched the lone walker lurking next to the 50% off rack. Immediately, they charged up the stairs, easily snapping the chain T-Dog had wrapped around the door.

Daryl pushed out first, nearly knocking T on top of Riley in his hurry to get onto the roof. Glenn supported her as she struggled to regain her balance and follow the rest of the group.

"No!" Daryl screamed, pacing as his face scrunched up in pain.

Riley's heart sank, expecting to see a shriveled-up dead body.

Instead there was a hand and a bloody handcuff.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who favorited/followed!(:**

**OhWickedOne- Awww! Thanks so much(: it really means a lot x3**


	7. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! I need y'all's help with something.**

**I don't usually use third person POV; I used it in this story mostly for practice, but I don't think I'm as good with it as I am with 1st person.. What do y'all think? Stay with the third, or go to first?**

**And I watched am interview of Norman Reedus, and he said he was trying To portray Daryl as someone who was "socially awkward" and "hadn't had sex". Hahahaha, Norman, I can totally roll with your wishes (:**

**I should probably throw in a disclaimer, seeing as I haven't yet. I don't own TWD or any of it's characters (I wish, though). **

**6**

**Foreshadowing With A Sprinkle of Flashback**

* * *

Riley watched Daryl's frantic pacing uneasily, her hand slipping to her gun. She wouldn't actually shoot him, but she could threaten him if she needed to.

His breathing was shaky as he suddenly turned on T-Dog, raising his crossbow just inches from his face. Before Riley could draw her weapon, Rick had already done it, aiming the barrel of his gun towards Daryl's temple.

"I don't care if every walker in the city hears it," he growled.

"Just put it down, Daryl. Killing him won't bring your brother back," Riley said in the most sympathetic voice she could muster.

His face contorted as he struggled to hold the tears back. He dropped his crossbow, asking T for a durag. Riley silently wondered what for, before Daryl wrapped his brother's hand up.

She grimaced. "They'll be able to smell that-"

"I don't give a damn," Daryl muttered. "He musta... The saw blade musta been too dull for the handcuff." He stuck the wrapped up hand in Glenn's bag, the carrier of which bag looked an odd shade of green.

Daryl started following the blood trail, and they started following him.

"I can take that for you," Riley offered. It wasn't ideal for her particular fighting style, but the last thing they needed was Glenn passing out or spewing chunks. He faintly shook his head, and Riley sympathetically patted his shoulder before continuing on.

She couldn't lie: where she had expected to find a spitting, delirious Merle, she now expected a corpse. He had been on a roof for almost two days with no food or water, completely exposed to the sun. Now he had apparently cut off his own hand. Tourniquet or no tourniquet, not even a Dixon could make it much farther.

Riley slid out the long dagger from her thigh and another smaller one from her boot as they descended the stairs. She inwardly winced when Daryl called out for Merle, knowing that would bring out any walkers that were hiding. Not that they couldn't get past them no problem, she just preferred to sneak around.

They entered the building's lobby, coming across the two dead walkers.

"Had enough in 'im ta take out these two sunovabitches," Daryl stated. "One handed."

Riley shook her head, licking her lips as she examined the wounds. Blunt object straight to the head. "That's impossible," she muttered. He should've been so weak that he could hardly stand, let alone run around and kill dead things.

"You dunno my brother," Daryl responded, reloading his bow. "Toughest asshole I ever met."

* * *

"Stop poking it!" Simmie protested, flinching (again) as Lori prodded her black eye (again).

Lori smiled, tilting Simmie's head as she examined the bruise. "Stop movin', and I won't have to poke it."

Simmie whimpered and tried to pull away, frowning. "That one was on purpose."

Lori tried to hide her smile.

"Come on, Sim, toughen up. It's just a battle wound," Carl said over his mom's shoulder.

"Oh yeah? Where're your battle wounds?" Simmie challenged.

Carl rolled up his pants leg to show her a minuscule white line on his knee. "That's from when I fell off my bike when I was six!" he said proudly.

Simmie squinted, leaning forwards. "What? I don't see anything!"

Carl stuck out her tongue at her, and Simmie did the same. Lori's gaze focused on something behind her, and she turned to see Amy and Andrea walking up with about two dozen fish.

Simmie grinned. No squirrel tonight! She could've danced. She stood up, eager to get away from Lori's constant prodding.

"I've never been happier to see a slimy, dead thing," Simmie remarked, making Amy grin as she took a swig of water. The two sisters smiled under everyone's praise.

Simmie had to admit she was impressed. What other tricks did these two have up their sleeves?

Andrea said something about the fishing gear to Dale as he walked up. He didn't crack a smile, stating in a low voice, "I don't wanna alarm anyone, but we may have a bit of a problem."

His tone of voice immediately made the smile slip from Simmie's face even before she saw Jim digging.

"Five minutes of happiness," Simmie muttered. "That too much to ask for?"

Mark walked over to her, shooting a grim smile in her direction. "What's he doing?" she asked.

Mark shrugged. "Haven't talked to him today."

"You should," Simmie urged. "He likes you."

Mark nodded and headed in Jim's direction. Simmie frowned, wondering what he possibly could be digging.

* * *

Daryl crept into a narrow kitchen, shouting Merle's name again.

"Stop," Riley demanded. "All you're doing is drawing attention to ourselves."

"Screw that," he mumbled, walking over to the open flames.

Riley's heart sank as she realized what he had done to himself. Did Merle really have such little trust in his little brother to think he would just abandon him? How could he have just given up so easy?

"What's all that burned stuff?" Glenn asked innocently.

"Skin," answered Rick.

"He cauterized it," Riley explained in further depth.

"Told you he was tough," Daryl grumbled.

_No one was this tough,_ Riley thought. The only thing Merle had to fight for was Daryl, and Merle didn't even seem to care that much about his younger sibling.

Riley thought about what she would do if she was separated from her family, and she knew she'd do everything Merle did and worse. She wouldn't stop until she had reached them, or died.

"Didn' stop 'im from breakin' outta this hellhole."

Riley looked in amazement at the broken window pane and out at the ledge and the street below. She pushed a few strands that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear.

"He's alone, fer all he knows. Doin' whut he does best: survivin'."

"Why wouldn't he just wait?" Riley asked, speaking her agitated thoughts.

"Didn' ya hear me? He thinks he's alone," Daryl answered roughly.

"Did you do something to make him think you would just leave him?" Riley realized what she had said as soon as it had slipped out of her mouth. She wasn't one for careless mistakes, but she had made one.

"What did ya jus' say, bitch?!" Daryl demanded, pushing his forearm against her throat as he slammed her back against the wall.

She raised her feet up, kicking him away before Rick had the chance. "That came out wrong," she admitted, holding her hands up.

"I'll say!" he exclaimed, lunging once again for her. She waved the knife in front of his face, and Rick held an arm across his chest, holding him back.

"Stupid, good-fer-nothin', _bitch!"_ Daryl spat.

"I apologized, for God's sake! What more do you want?!"

"I didn't hear nothin'!"

"Stop!" Rick commanded, intervening. "We've got enough problems without fightin' each other," he scolded. "Now's the time to be _mature_."

Daryl turned and stalked a few paces away, and Riley huffed indignantly, crossing her arms.

"They always like that?" Rick asked.

Glenn and T-Dog nodded, grimacing.

"Hello, we're still in tha room!" Daryl interrupted.

Riley held back a sharp retort, sticking her tongue in her cheek.

"His odds aren't very good, man. He's wanderin' 'round on the streets, almost passing out," T-Dog said.

"Better than bein' handcuffed ta a roof," Daryl retorted dryly. "I'm goin' ta look fer 'im."

Rick put a hand on his chest, pushing him back.

"Git yer hands off me!" Daryl shouted, making Glenn flinch nervously. Riley trotted over to the door, looking in the empty lobby for any walkers who might had wandered in the area. Seeing nothing, she turned and caught the last bit of Rick's monologue.

"We can check a few blocks just around here, but only if we keep a level head."

Daryl swallowed, saying, with difficulty, "I can do that."

T shook his head. "Only if we get the bag first. I'm not about to stroll down the streets with only my good intentions."

Riley snorted in amusement, rolling up her right pant leg and revealing the knife sheath strapped to the side of her shin. She pulled out the long dagger, handing it to the surprised T-Dog. "Until you get a gun," she explained.

"How many of those do you _have_?" Glenn asked breathlessly, staring at her with wide eyes.

She smirked, shooting him a wink.

* * *

Simmie walked down with the rest of the camp to where Jim was digging. Her stomach churned and her blood ran cold as she finally got a good look at the holes.

Graves. They looked like graves.

"Did he...?" Simmie asked Mark, looking up at him with wide eyes. He shook his head, wiping his face.

Carl looked up at Simmie. "What's he doin'?" he asked quietly.

Simmie shook her head, wrapping an arm around the kid's shoulders. "I don't know."

She listened warily as Shane and the man talked, trying to hide the worried look on her face. Carol stood right next to her, offering a little smile to the younger woman.

Simmie looked at the ground when Jim mentioned Ed's face. Like it or not, Shane had helped the women. If he hadn't been there, then Simmie's black eye and Carol's bruised cheek wouldn't have been the only injuries.

Simmie wished, for about the millionth time that day, that Riley had stayed. She would've been able to easily negotiate her way into Jim's mind and convince him to stop, while asking questions that seemed completely irrelevant.

"You weren't there," Amy spoke up. "He was hurting his wife, and look what he did to Simmie!"

Simmie flushed, turning her embarrassed gaze to the ground again. She didn't want to be dragged into this.

Jim suddenly went crazy, swinging at Shane with the shovel. Shane tackled him to the ground, telling him that nobody was trying to hurt him.

Simmie listened in horror as Jim revealed his past. "The only reason I got away is because the dead were busy eating my family."

Simmie felt the blood drain from her face, and she removed her arm from Carl's shoulders, cupping it over her mouth. Mark saw her terrified expression and gently wrapped a meaty arm around her waist, leading her back up to camp.

"The only reason we got away is because they were eating the other tenants," she muttered miserably.

"They would've been happy that at least some of us got away," Mark reassured.

* * *

Riley listened as Glenn explained his plan. His un-detailed, bound-to-fall-apart-the-second-something-messed-up, plan.

"Nuh-uh," Riley interrupted. "I should go. I'm trained, I'm fast, and I'm quiet. And I won't have a melt down if something goes wrong. No offense," she added, glancing at Glenn.

"Look," Glenn pressed, pushing around the binder clips and other items that signified the various objects and people.

"At least let me go with you," Riley pleaded. She liked the Asian kid, and she didn't want to see him as a walker meal.

"Daryl will wait for me here-" he continued, ignoring her.

"Why me?"

"Your crossbow's a lot quieter than his gun."

"And my fist is a lot quieter than all of it!" Riley exclaimed, irritated that no one was taking her seriously. She walked away and started pacing, redoing her ponytail.

A few minutes later found Riley, T, and Rick running down an alley. Riley stood at the mouth, pressed against the wall and occasionally peeking into the street.

"There he goes," she whispered, watching Glenn run into the middle of the street.

"Walker!" Rick quietly warned, making Riley spin around and see a geek stumbling towards them.

"Got it," she muttered, stalking forwards. She was desperate to prove that she wasn't a damsel in distress.

She dropped to the ground, supporting herself on one hand as she spun around, kicking his legs out from under him. She leapt gracefully up and away before he fell right where she had been a second ago. She danced forwards, stabbing him through the mouth.

Suddenly, loud shouts started coming from where Daryl and Glenn were supposed to be. "Damn it all to hell!" she hissed, jerking her knife out and sprinting after Rick into their alleyway.

Some kid was currently screaming his head off while Daryl was fighting and yelling like an idiot. Rick pushed Daryl away while T held the kid.

"The lil' bastard and his homie friends took Glenn!" Daryl shouted.

Riley jogged over to the gate, where the geeks were clustering. The holes in the chain-link fence weren't big enough for them to reach their arms through or for her to use her long dagger, so she used the smaller one to stab as many in the head as she could.

"C'mon! Riley, c'mon!" Rick demanded, pulling the back of her shirt and taking off down the alley, Riley right on his heels.

They ended up back in the same building, with the kid planted firmly in a chair behind a desk. All four adults were on the other side, trying to weasel information from him. Except for Riley, who was standing and watching thoughtfully, and Daryl, who was pacing and looked pissed as all get out.

"I ain't tellin' ya nothin'," the kid said, glaring up at Rick.

"What the hell happened back there?" T-Dog demanded.

"I told ya! This turd and his douchebag friends came outta nowhere and jumped me!"

"Your the one who jumped me. Screaming about his brother like it was my damn fault," he ended with a mumble.

Riley walked forwards, uncrossing her arms, as she heard the spanish word he had emitted. "¿Tu hablas español?" she asked. (You speak Spanish?)

"Sí," the boy answered warily. "¿Dónde aprendiste a hablar?" (Where did you learn to speak it?)

"Mí escuela," Riley answered. (My school.) She turned to the men who were giving her surprised looks, waving them out of earshot.

"Let me interrogate him," Riley coaxed.

"What makes you better than the rest of us?" Rick asked.

"It was part of my job," she returned.

"Which was...?" T-Dog started.

Riley didn't answer, turning around and pushing the desk away with a heave. The boy was left, exposed, in the middle of the room. Having him behind a desk gave him a sense of protection and elevated status, like he was the principal consulting with unruly students. She snaked a foot out, kicking the chair out from under him. He fell to the ground with a cry of surprise, and she bent down and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"Listen here, niño, I'm _really_ not in the mood, okay? I got my sorry ass dragged on this trip, and I've had to listen to this guy bitch _all day_ about his brother. He doesn't seem to understand that he ain't coming' back. And then you and your amigos take the only person that I actually get along with. So excuse me if I'm a little forward, but you better cooperate," she hissed, dumping the kid on the ground.

"'the HELL did ya jus' say?!" Daryl demanded, lunging towards Riley.

"I was lying!" she mouthed, putting her hands on his chest. "All of it; it was a lie. Roll with it," she whispered through clenched teeth, shooting T and Rick a glance.

"Come on," Riley said in a louder tone, rolling her eyes. "Go complain about your problems to someone who cares." She stalked theatrically over to the door, slouching against the wall and watching Daryl easily pick up the idea, scaring the crap out of the kid with Merle's hand.

* * *

The negotiation with G hadn't gone exactly to plan. Riley'd been in hostage situations before, and they never were fun.

"Ya willin' ta risk all tha' for Glenn?" Daryl asked.

"You're kidding, right?" Riley demanded. "Glenn came out to help find your brother; you owe him, man."

Daryl shot her a glare, knowing she was right. "So you're jus' gonna give 'im all the guns?" Daryl questioned.

"I didn't say that," Rick answered. "Y'all should go back."

"And tell your family what?" T rubbed his head.

Rick sighed, and the boys started loading up rifles. Riley removed the gun strapped to her hip, removing the long dagger T had returned to her from its sheath.

"I was looking for a workout," Riley mused with a small smirk. "Let's go get us some tacos."

T-Dog snorted in amusement, shaking his head, and even Daryl looked down to hide a little smirk.

"This isn't funny," Rick pressed, fixing her with his blue-eyed glare. "We could all die."

"This isn't my first hostage situation, chief," Riley responded with a grimace, turning and walking out the door.

A few minutes later found them back at G's place with a bound and gagged Miguel. As they stepped inside, Riley found her heart sinking at the multitude of extremely large men. They were severely outnumbered.

At least they would look over her, seeing as she was a girl, and she could use that to her advantage.

She watched keenly as G described his dogs, before stating calmly, "He's lying."

"Gunna call my bluff?" G demanded.

She narrowed her green eyes. "Do you guys hear any dogs barking?"

"They in the back," G retorted.

Either way, he was lying, and Riley knew it. It was etched onto his face.

Suddenly, the crowd began to part as an elderly woman hobbled into view. G and Felipe both told her to leave, but she quickly began to speak to the latter.

"Git that old lady outta the line o' fire!" Daryl ordered.

No, Riley thought, the gears in her head spinning furiously. G's men needed that woman. If Riley could get to her-

Riley aimed her Beretta solely at the old woman's head. "Anybody moves, I'll blow her brains out!"

"Riley, what the hell?!" Daryl demanded.

Silence stretched through the room, as the elder stared at Riley, confused.

"Now, we want Glenn," she growled. "And if I don't see someone going to get him in five- four-"

"The Asian boy?" the old lady asked.

Riley gave a slow nod, and the lady waved excitedly for them to follow. "Come, come!"

* * *

They were almost back to the van before Rick suddenly rounded on Riley.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded, fury shining in his pale blue eyes.

Riley clenched her jaw. "That was me trying to save all of us."

"By threatenin' to kill an old lady?"

Riley just shrugged. "Worked, didn't it?"

"Look, we are not those kind of people-"

"Who are you to say what kind of person I am?" Riley snapped. "I'm sorry, okay! I took it too far by involving the old lady. Now can-"

"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl interrupted, staring at the empty spot the car once occupied.

"Who would take it?!" Glenn exclaimed.

"Merle."

Riley exhaled slowly. "So, we run the whole way?"

"Hey, at least you're gonna get that workout you wanted," Rick joked half-heartedly.

Riley smiled, sheathing her knife. "Lucky me," she said, taking off into a steady jog.

They were all silent as they ran. When they reached the forest, Riley tried to put some distance between her and the group. She could feel the judging looks and the dislike radiating from them, the few people who she could maybe call friends. Except for Daryl, of course.

Speaking of the devil. He jogged up in the corner of her eye, falling into step with her.

"Would ya have done it?" he asked.

"Done what?" Riley questioned, knowing exactly what he meant. She grabbed a tree and used it to hoist herself up over the last bit of the hill she'd been climbing.

"Killed the lady."

She peered over at him, surprised to see he was actually looking at her. Maybe not straight on, but he normally never looked at anyone when he talked to them other than sideways glances.

She sighed and looked at the ground, hopping over a log. "No," she confessed.

He grunted, keeping up with her brisk trot. "Why'd ya do it?"

"I had to do something to save you guys's sorry asses," she responded with a slight smirk.

He smirked a little too.

While they were (for once) being civil to each other, Riley added seriously, "I'm sorry about Merle."

He shrugged. "'S not yer fault. Ya didn't leave 'im."

And that's when they heard the screaming.

* * *

**Sorry 'bout the choppiness! I just wanted y'all to get a feel for Riley and how she responded in situations like those. **

**Hmmm, the boys are starting to wonder bout her past (;**

**Leyshla Gisel: Thank you! (:**


	8. Chapter 7

**Hello everyone!**

**Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and follows!**

**7**

**Did We Stumble Into Heaven?**

* * *

Terror shot through Riley's body, making her blood run cold. Her heart froze in her chest, and her breath hitched as their limbs collectively locked up in fear.

"Oh my God," Rick breathed, and Riley didn't need Glenn's panicked 'go!'s to make her run.

She started sprinting, her long-legged gait putting distance between her and the boys. She had to get Simmie. She could hear her friend's hysterical screams even from this distance.

Screaming was good. It meant she was still alive _to_ scream.

Rick and Daryl overtook her as gunshots started ringing out, making a chill run down her spine. Each explosion signified death.

She ripped the gun out of her holster as they charged into the chaos that was camp. There were over a dozen walkers, and Riley aimed at anything that moved. She wrenched her dagger from her thigh, sprinting into a cluster of them. She stabbed and shot as many as she could.

As suddenly as it started, it ended.

Riley spun around in a circle, feeling the unusual panic choking her throat. "Simmie!" she screamed, her voice high-pitched and strained.

Simmie morphed out of the darkness, latching onto her friend as tightly as she could. Riley choked out a sob of relief, clutching Simmie's wailing body.

Riley suddenly pushed her best friend back, running her hands up and down her bloody arms. "Are you okay?!"

Simmie nodded, tears gushing from her eyes, and Riley clung onto her. "Oh, my God," was all Riley was able to say, over and over again.

"Amy!" Andrea suddenly wailed.

Simmie inhaled so sharply it was a shriek, whirling around. They both saw Andrea crouched over Amy's still, bloody form.

"NO!" Simmie screamed, lunging for her dead friend.

Riley lurched forwards, wrapping her arms around Simmie's torso to pull her back. The two of them fell to the ground, Simmie's anguished wails mingling with Andrea's. Tears sprung in Riley's eyes from the fear of almost losing Simmie and the sound of her friend in so much pain, and she buried her nose in Simmie's thick, black hair to hide her face.

* * *

No one slept that night. Everybody held onto their loved ones: some crying, some cursing, and some just sitting with blank expressions as their mind reeled over the situation.

Just when everyone had given up hope that they sun would ever make its appearance, it painstakingly inched into the sky, shedding light on their grim circumstance. The light revealed just the massive amount of their casualties: they had lost almost half the camp.

As the first people began to resume motion, Simmie suddenly stirred, turning to face Riley. Her wide eyes were puffy and red, and she looked scared. "Mark," she said hoarsely.

A horrified gasp tumbled from Riley's lips before she could stop it. Mark hadn't shown up all night, and she knew what that must've meant. "I'll go find him," Riley pledged gravely, desperately hoping that he had just run off instead of the alternative. She stood up slowly, telling Simmie, "Stay here."

Riley looked around the miserable camp, her eyes almost immediately falling on Daryl's standing form. She crossed over to him.

"Ya look like hell," he stated, trying to lighten the mood.

Riley's cold mask had already snapped on her face, wiping away all emotions. "Have you seen Mark anywhere?"

"The big guy? Naw, he hasn't turned up." Riley's heart clenched, and she blinked, the only visible sign of her inner turmoil. Daryl stared down at her, unable to comprehend why she wasn't crying; why she looked like she hadn't cried all night. "Sorry," he added seriously.

Riley gave him a tiny nod before turning and inhaling slowly. She squared her shoulders, mentally preparing herself as she turned her steely gaze towards the ground. Now she was looking for a body.

She examined all the corpses blankly, recognizing many of the faces. She had made it almost halfway across camp before she saw him.

At first, she didn't realize it was him. His head was hidden behind a bush, and she approached, not prepared for the sudden onslaught of emotion when she saw him.

She whirled around, feeling her stomach churn dangerously as she clamped the back of her hand against her mouth. She clenched her eyes shut, taking ragged breaths as she struggled to not scream or cry or throw up.

Slowly working up her strength again, she hesitantly turned around.

His stomach was ripped wide open, flaps of skin stretched across the ground. His blood coated the dirt and his clothes, various intestines strewn around him. His brown eyes were wide open, glazed over and staring up at nothing.

"Oh, God!"

Riley spun around, barely managing to catch Simmie in time. She crumpled in her arms like a rag doll, choking out hysterical scream-sobs. Riley stroked her friend's hair, feeling tears rise in her eyes as well.

Aside from Riley, Mark had been her closest friend. He had worked at the CIA too, so he understood a lot of the trials that Riley went through. Riley could tell him anything, even the really gruesome stuff that she just couldn't tell her innocent Simmie.

A tear rolled down Riley's cheek, but she quickly wiped it away, hoping that no one had seen.

"Riley?"

Riley looked over Simmie's shoulder at Daryl, who had a pick axe in his hand.

"We gotta...take 'im," he said as gently as he could muster.

"No!" Simmie sobbed, digging her nails into Riley's arms.

Riley nodded. "I'll do it," she muttered grimly, untangling herself from her friend.

Simmie looked up at her in absolute horror. "What? No! Riley-"

"He was my friend; I'll do it," she snarled.

Simmie's hand snapped out, slapping her across the face. Her cheek stung, and she heard Simmie's choked "How could you?" before she stalked away.

Riley licked her lips, glancing up at Daryl who was silently watching.

"Ya sure?" he asked.

Riley nodded, removing her gun from her holster. She turned around, slowly sinking to her knees beside her friend. She pressed the barrel against his head, clicking the safety off. She reached up to shut his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, clenching her eyes shut and squeezing the trigger.

The loud explosion cut through the tranquility of the morning silence, making Riley flinch. Warm, sticky blood splattered on her face. She let out a shaky breath, keeping her eyes shut as she stood. She didn't open them again until she had holstered her gun and turned her back on his corpse.

She brushed past Daryl, hooking her arms under a dead girl's armpits. The few bodies that had already been collected were heaped in a fire. She didn't even question the cruelty of it, numbly dragging the cadaver to the pile.

"What are you doing?! That's for geeks!" Glenn exclaimed, his voice strangled.

Riley glanced over her shoulder. "Sorry. I didn't know."

He nodded his head towards the beginning of a row of bodies. "Our people go over there," he stated more calmly, realizing it had been a misunderstanding.

Riley and T-Dog had collected a few more bodies, before Daryl suddenly started yelling.

"Y'all left my brother fer dead! Ya had this comin'!" he shouted, stalking away.

Riley saw Simmie bow her head from where she was sitting next to Carol. She dropped the legs of the carcass she was holding, stalking over to the redneck.

"You need to stop," she growled lowly.

Daryl whirled around, towering threateningly over her. "Don' tell me what' ta do," he spat.

"Everyone lost somebody, and they don't need you running 'round screaming that it was their fault," she intoned angrily.

"It _is_ y'all's fault! Y'all just left him!"

"Why're you getting mad at me? I didn't leave your brother, but I still volunteered to go get him. I didn't owe you anything, and I sure as hell didn't feel guilty, but I still went," Riley declared, her eyes burning. "You can be mad at them all you want, but it won't bring him back, and it'll just make them hate you more."

Knowing that she was right but not about to admit it, he stalked past her, muttering profanities. She rolled her eyes, unable to stop the triumphant smirk that flitted across her lips.

From then on, the day just got steadily worse. Jim was bit, Simmie was pissed, and the funeral was depressing. Riley left right after she had placed Mark in his grave, unable to stand the depression and not being able to comfort her mourning best friend. She was sure that Simmie would eventually come around, she always did, but Riley wasn't sure if she could deal with the guilt on her shoulders.

Riley could deal with it on her own. She always dealt with these things alone. It pissed off her friends and family to no end, but Riley wasn't one to wear her heart on her sleeve.

So while everyone else was at the funeral, Riley sat alone on top of the RV. She fished in her back pocket, pulling out the picture that made itself home there. It was a four by six sheet of copy paper that could tangle Riley's thoughts and shred her heart to pieces.

The nine-year-old girl smiled crookedly up at the camera, her mouth a mess of crooked and missing teeth. Her skin was rosy, and her cheeks were flushed pink. Her straight, blonde hair fell down past her shoulders, blowing softly in the invisible breeze.

Riley felt her heart clench as she ran a thumb over the photograph. She knew she couldn't bring herself to turn the paper over and read the chicken-scratch words she'd memorized a long time ago written on the back in glittery, dark blue ink.

The RV shuddered, and Riley jumped, looking to see Rick climbing up the ladder. She quickly refolded the picture, hastily shoving it in her back pocket.

Rick sat down next to her, and she realized that everyone had come back to camp. She was silent, waiting patiently for Rick to say what was on his mind.

"I can't pretend to know what you're thinkin'," he started in his gravelly voice. "You're good at making things seem like they don't bother you, and they might not, but I just came up here to see how you're doin'." He turned his icy blue eyes on her.

She shrugged. "As good as everyone else."

Rick nodded, gazing out at camp for a second, before looking back at her with an urgency in his eyes. "Whatever you think, you do _not_ have to blame yourself for not being here."

She jerked her gaze back to him. How did he know that that had been bothering her? It had been such a long time since someone had honestly been able to read her emotions... No, it was logical for him to think she was feeling guilty. Any person would.

"If we'd been here, our losses would have been the same- maybe even worse. We wouldn't have had hardly enough firepower."

"Guns aren't my weapon of choice," Riley admitted. She didn't need guns to fight demons off.

Rick stubbornly shook his head. "They are for the rest of us. You would've gotten yourself killed tryin' to take them all on yourself."

She knew Rick was right. But, would that have been better? Mark would still be alive, Simmie would be safe with the group, and Riley wouldn't have to constantly worry about everything. No, Riley didn't trust anybody to be able to sincerely keep Simmie safe. Riley knew she'd be the only one to lay down her life for her friend. She sighed, slumping her shoulders in defeat.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded, reaching up and scratching her temple. Rick patted her back, standing up and heading towards the ladder.

"Hey, Rick?" The policeman turned around, his eyebrows raised. "I agree with you about the CDC. If there's anything left, it'll be there."

Rick nodded. "That makes one person. Thanks, Riley."

Riley gave him a half-hearted salute as he descend the ladder.

Night came and went, with Riley sitting, unmoving from her post on top the RV. Nobody questioned her, and nobody tried to convince her to take a break. She was emotionally and physically drained, wanting nothing more than to sleep. But she didn't trust that something wouldn't happen while she slept. Plus, the nightmares were bound to be absolutely horrid.

The morning finally arrived, and everyone decided to head to the CDC. Riley headed for the RV, but as soon as she walked in, she got a tear-stained glare from Simmie.

"There's no room," she intoned stiffly, even though there was roughly enough space to fit the whole camp in there.

Riley sighed, catching Dale and Glenn's sympathetic glances before stalking away, Sky walking at her side.

Her heart sank as she realized who she'd have to ride with. Sky jumped into the back of the faded blue truck, and Riley slammed the door after she clambered in.

"Uh- Wha' are ya doin'?" Daryl demanded.

"Simmie kicked me outta the RV, there's not enough room in the 'wagon, and I'm not about to sit in a car with Andrea," Riley grumbled, glaring out the windshield with crossed arms.

"Wha' 'bout Shane?" Daryl was clearly as unhappy with their arrangement as Riley was.

"Sky's gotta go somewhere."

"Wha-?!" He turned and glanced over his shoulder at the german shepherd sitting next to the motorocycle. He groaned, turning back and mumbling something about "Merle's bike".

Riley stared out the window as they booked it down a two-lane country road.

"Good thing about the world ending- no speed limit," Riley stated.

He removed the toothpick he was chewing on, pointing at her for a second. "No cops."

"No traffic." He nodded in agreement. That, at least, was something they could agree on.

"And no radio," she added, frowning at the silent dashboard. She wasn't sure if his piece of junk could even play the radio if there was one.

It was quiet for a long time before Riley spoke up again.

"Would you have really killed Jim?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer. She just needed something to distract herself from her spiraling thoughts.

"Wouldn't you?" he retorted. "Man's a time bomb.

"But the CDC could help him."

"Ya really believe tha'?" Daryl questioned, brows raised.

Riley frowned. No, she didn't. She believed that the CDC would be safe, but she was wary to believe that they would let them in. And she extremely doubted that there was a cure.

He snorted. "Didn' think so."

"So what, do you just think there'll be nothing?" she challenged.

Daryl shrugged. "Dunno wha' to 'spect. 'M jus' hopin' there'll be beer an' sumethin' other than squirrel."

"I knew I wasn't the only one!" she exclaimed. A sudden craving hit her, and her mouth wanted to water. "Ice cream!"

He shot her a look like she'd grown another head. "Ya're weird."

"Shut up," she retorted cheerfully. They descended back into a thoughtful silence.

What a crappy day yesterday turned out to be. The events of that morning seemed to be weeks ago. The walker in the camp, telling Daryl that they had left Merle, going to find him, the whole "G" situation...

Amongst all the chaos, Riley had completely forgotten about Merle. They hadn't found him. And, with a sinking feeling, Riley realized he hadn't driven back to camp with the cube van. She looked at Daryl, who was staring stonily straight ahead.

Had he figured it out yet? Had he realized that his brother, who he really cared about, had abandoned him? Had taken the vehicle and driven straight in the opposite direction, happy to be rid of the burden that was named "Daryl Dixon".

"Wha're ya starin' at me fer?" he demanded.

"Sorry about your brother," she responded sincerely. He shot her a surprised glance. "I know he's still out there. If he could live through all that, I don't really know what will kill him."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. She noticed how his knuckles had tightened on the steering wheel, and the toothpick dangling from the corner of his mouth had gone stiff, his lips pressed tautly together in a grim line. "Nobody can kill Merle bu' Merle," he grumbled.

She nodded in answer as the caravan came to a halt. Riley probably wouldn't have even gotten out if it wasn't for Mark. She knew that he'd want her to be there for Jim.

Sky leaped out of the back, disappearing into the woods to take care of her business. She watched solemnly from Daryl's side as they just left Jim to slowly die alone. He would join the hordes of mindless beasts, stumbling around and looking for warm, soft flesh to sink their teeth into. Daryl, Sky, and Riley clambered back into the truck, an ominous silence settling around their shoulders.

"If I ever get bit," Riley stated, "I want you to do it. Before I die."

Daryl furrowed his brows. "Why do ya want me ta do it?"

"Because you're the only one who was the balls." She smiled, and he grunted, an amused smirk crossing his lips. "And you don't like me much, anyways. Someone should at least be happy that I died."

His smirk grew. "Only if ya do the same fer me."

"Deal," she agreed, holding out her hand.

He glanced quickly back and forth between her and the road, reaching over and shaking her hand. He looked at her for a second too long, causing the truck to veer precariously off the road.

"Ah- Dar- Eyes on the road!" she cried, the tire dipping into a small ditch and causing the car to jerk violently.

He let out a string of curses as he jerked the wheel, narrowly swerving past the tree.

Riley laughed loudly, clapping her hands together as she leaned forwards, a huge grin on her face.

"I didn' know ya could laugh," he said with an amused smirk once her giggles had subsided.

"Shut up," she ordered, rolling her eyes and pushing his shoulder.

They fell back into a comfortable silence, and Riley felt her eyelids starting to droop of their own accord. She fought desperately against it; she needed to be awake so that she could negotiate and fight if she needed to.

The whole truck jolted, and a gasp ripped from Rile's throat as her eyelids snapped open. They were still driving. It had just been a bump in the road.

"Jumpy lil' bitch," Daryl muttered. "When's the las' time ya slept?"

She shrugged, leaning forward and rubbing her shoulder in an attempt to keep herself awake. She thought back, mentally counting up the hours. "I think... Two or three days ago."

"Good Lord," Daryl said, eyes widening.

She nodded, smiling grimly. "My thoughts exactly."

"We got 'bout half an hour left. Might as well take ya a nap."

Riley frowned, but she knew she couldn't fight off the sleep anymore. She'd be even more weak fighting like this than fighting right after she woke up. Finally, she gave in, leaning her head against the window. "Only if you promise not to slit my throat in my sleep."

Daryl rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

She pulled her legs up on the seat, curling them underneath her. "Hm, what was that?"

He glanced at her. "Ya can' be serious."

She just nodded. "I'm waiting."

He scoffed. "I promise," he sneered.

* * *

Her body gave a sudden jolt, and Riley's eyes flew open with a gasp. Her leg instinctively shot out to give the unsuspecting waker a vicious kick in the gut.

The breath whooshed out of Daryl's lungs before he punched her in the calf, looking like he might explode. "The _hell_ was tha' fer?!"

Riley looked around with wary, confused eyes. She was with Daryl, in his truck, in Georgia. "Sorry," she mumbled sleepily, glancing back up into his blue eyes.

She suddenly realized the compromising position they were in: she was laying back on the seat with him leaning completely over her, bracing himself with an arm she could feel brushing against her side. He seemed to realize it at the same time as her, because he shot back up into a sitting position.

"We're here," he muttered, stepping out the door.

_Wow. Just...wow._

She jumped out as well, tapping her thigh to signal Sky to follow her. She pulled the Beretta out of the holster, clicking the safety off as she and Daryl joined with the rest of the group.

Riley's heart sank as she saw the rotting corpses littered around the CDC. She shared a glance with Daryl, resisting the urge to gag from the stomach-churning smell.

They scurried towards the building, where Rick started banging on the door. He pleaded for them to let in their merry band of survivors.

People began to spiral into a panic as a few walkers strayed over to the commotion. Some of their group started begging Rick to leave.

"Where are we gonna go?!" Riley demanded as they started heading for the cars. They were almost out of fuel and running low on supplies. They wouldn't get anywhere!

Riley joined Rick at the door, knocking as frantically as she could. She ignored Simmie's loud cries of protest, begging Riley to come away from the door.

Everyone started leaving, except Riley and Rick. At the same time, they spotted the security cam, both of them freezing.

"We gotta go! C'mon!" Daryl shouted, jumping forward and grabbing Riley's arm.

"The camera!" she exclaimed, yanking her arm away from him.

She was wildly desperate. Their lives, the children's lives, depended on _this_. This would be the only thing left in America; it would be defended at all costs. She wasn't about to walk away. This was their last chance; walking away from this spelled their imminent death. The end of any hope that their situation might someday be fixed.

To hell with all of them. She would die right outside this door if she had to; she wasn't moving.

Maybe if they knew who she was...

In a last ditch attempt, Riley wrenched her credentials out of her back pocket.

"Open up!" she shouted, waving the badge in front of the camera. "CIA!"

Daryl, who had been reaching for her, paused in surprise. "The hell?"

"You're killing us!" Rick screamed as Shane pulled him away.

"We gotta go!" Daryl stated, grabbing the woman's arm again. "We gotta go now!"

She only took a step in his direction before a blinding white light bathed their surroundings. For a second, she thought it was heaven. Maybe it was.

Maybe it was their heaven, their haven. Their personal Garden of Eden.

* * *

**sorry for the incredibly cheesy ending... Riley's a lil crazy from no sleep. **

**Yay, Mark's gone! He annoyed me XD**

**And uh ohhhhh. Drama between Simmie and Riley. Cat fight bout ta go downnnn. Haha(:**

**Can we all just take a moment to appreciate just how awkward a long car ride with Daryl Dixon would be? Riley, fortunately, is not a very awkward person, so she didn't too much trouble. But me...? You look up awkward in the dictionary and you'll see 'Lupus'.**

**Leyshla Gisel: Hahaha, whoops! I guess that answered that, huh? (; No, they had to find out eventually. Can you imagine just how suspicious they'd get from all of Riley's kick-buttery? Plus, it helps with all the drunk fun that'll go down next chapter. (; And thank you! Thanks for reviewing! (:**


	9. Chapter 8

**Hey everybody! I wanted to squeeze this chapter out before the holidays. I'm not sure how I feel about it... Oh well!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own TWD, but they could use another kick-butt female character, am I right? Be prepared for drunk bonding, the best kind of bonding. X)**

**Be safe, and have a good Thanksgiving y'all!**

**8**

**Caught in This Daydream**

* * *

One man.

In sweats.

With a rifle.

Riley was stunned. Where was the army? Where were all the guards, all the doctors?

"Any of you infected?" he called nervously.

Rick answered, his voice shaking. Riley couldn't hear over the rushing in her ears. She stared dumbly at the man who was mouthing something to Rick before locking his eyes on hers. His mouth was moving, but she couldn't hear a thing. Her face had drained of color, and her eyes were wide.

"Riley." Rick's voice was echo-y and distant, though he was standing right beside her. The sound dragged the stunned woman out of her mind and back into their surroundings.

"You're CIA?" the man asked, his words finally clicking in her mind.

Everyone looked expectantly at her. They were just as curious as the doctor; Riley had always avoided the subject of her previous occupation.

She gave a small nod, mentally trying to convince herself to calm down as a few of the men ran out to the cars to grab their supplies.

Daryl swung Riley's backpack at her chest, making her stumble a few steps backwards from the unexpected weight. His eyebrow cocked; she could've caught that without even thinking about it.

"Ya okay?" he asked. She looked like she was about to throw up.

She nodded again, heading for the elevator that had everyone packed in it. Needless to say, it was one of the most awkward elevator rides she'd ever experienced. It sounded like a bad joke: two cops, a forever-angry, racist redneck, an Asian, a black man, and a female CIA spy walk into a bar...

They uneasily followed Jenner as he lead them to a huge, empty room. Rows of turned-off computers were arranged in a circle, surrounded by a railing.

"Where is everybody?" Rick asked.

Riley stopped and crossed her arms. She refused to take another step until she knew what was going on. She half expected the army to come running out of some other entrance, shouting orders for them to lie down on the ground.

No such luck. "I'm it," Jenner solemnly answered. "I'm all that's left."

Riley's pounding heartbeat was deafening in her ears, and a knot tied itself in her stomach. She exhaled sharply, raising a hand and rubbing her face. He's kidding, she told herself. Everybody would come out of hiding eventually.

"Is this some kind of a sick joke?" the woman rasped, her voice weak.

Jenner shook his head. "You're CIA. Do you know anything?"

Riley shook her head, reaching out and taking a hold of the rail to steady herself. "No more than you."

After they had all gotten blood drawn, even Sky (which was ridiculous; animals can't get the infection), Jenner decided to throw them a "feast".

Riley eagerly downed the first glass of wine. Then another. And another.

"Easy there, princess, ya're startin' ta ge' a lil' red in tha face," Daryl teased beside her.

Riley rolled her eyes; she wasn't even drunk! "I know how to hold my alcohol, Daryl."

"Prove it," he challenged, pouring some of his whiskey into a few shot glasses.

A collection of "ooh's" went around the table at the obvious challenge. Riley smirked, glancing at Glenn beside her. She swung her legs off the side of the counter as Daryl handed her the three shot glasses.

"Don' stop," he warned, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Won't even breathe," she promised, grinning as she downed the first two without difficulty. Her throat seared, and her eyes watered a little, but she drank the third as well. She slammed the glass on the counter next to her, coughing. "God DAMN!" she exclaimed, making the table let out a chorus of laughter.

All her previous concerns melted away, replaced by the joy of finally finding a safe place where she could let herself get a little drunk and finally relax.

"So, Riley, how long did ya plan on keeping the CIA thing secret?" T-Dog asked, grinning to show he wasn't accusing her of anything.

She shrugged, smiling with closed lips. To hell with all of it. The CIA was gone. What use was it to keep secrets? "I can't just go around telling everyone I'm a spy. I'd get in serious trouble."

Carl and Sophia's eyes widened to the size of the plates they were eating off of. "A spy...?" Carl breathed, a grin spreading across his face. "So cool."

She winked at him, holding a finger to her lips. "But keep it a secret, okay? Don't want the bad guys to know."

He nodded eagerly. "Do you how to do any cool stuff?"

"Like gymnastics? Hell yeah," she responded, jumping off the counter. She tilted down into a board-straight handstand.

"I can do a handstand," Carl stated, clearly unimpressed.

She shifted so that her balance was steadily on her right hand and raised her left arm so that it was stuck to her side.

Sophia's eyes were wide. "That's so cool."

Riley brought her other hand down, bending her elbows and tensing her muscles. She suddenly sprung up, flipping backwards before landing on her feet. She bowed to her applauding audience, her eyes falling on Daryl.

"C'mere," she ordered, beckoning him over to her. She gracefully jumped onto the counter, turning and glancing at him.

"Wha' are ya doin'?"

"Just turn around and _don't move_," she demanded, moving her pointer finger in a circle. He obliged.

Riley slowly stepped onto his shoulders, struggling to keep her balance. He fidgeted almost immediately, nearly sending her to the ground. She grabbed onto his hair, squealing in surprise.

"Wha-"

"Don't move, Daryl!" she barked. "I'm serious!"

"Why couldn't ya have done this with-"

"Because you were the first person I saw, and you're not as drunk as the rest of 'em." Riley bent down, hesitantly placing her hands on his shoulders. "Seriously, don't move. Or I'll freaking kill you."

"Got it," he responded, and she could hear the amusement in his voice.

Once she had gotten a good grip with her hands, she slowly, _slowly_, started to raise her left leg into the air. Her right leg followed so that she was doing a wobbly handstand on Daryl's shoulders.

"Whoa," Carl breathed, and Riley could see Glenn's huge grin of amazement.

Daryl shifted, and Riley's stomach churned as her fingers slipped. Panic was something Riley Todd was unfamiliar with, but, as she tipped towards the ground, panic flooded her. Her hands shot out, grabbing at anything she could.

"Ouch! Dammit, woman, tha' was my eye!" Daryl growled as two hard bars slammed under her knees and back.

With a jolt of surprise, Riley realized she wasn't falling anymore. She nervously opened her squeezed-shut eyes, staring up at Daryl, who had caught her. His blue eyes were narrowed in a glare, and his (rather muscular) arms were wrapped around her.

"God- Daryl!" she shrieked, punching his chest and jumping lithely from his arms.

He rubbed his chest. "Ya're welcome!" he grumbled.

"I told you not to drop me!" Their group started laughing, clearly amused by their bickering. Riley turned on Carl, who was cracking up. "You think that's funny, huh?" She darted around the table and snatched the small boy from his chair. He let out a scream of surprise, laughing as Riley dangled him from one ankle. "You want me to throw you?"

"NO!" he shouted, arms dangling towards the ground.

"Stop laughing, then!" Riley was chuckling at the boy's clear elation. She smiled, turning him and setting him back down in his chair. She waltzed back over to where Daryl was standing next to Glenn, snatching the beer bottle from the Asian and tossing it down her throat.

"Ya're fun when ya're drunk," Daryl stated, smirking, clearly amused.

"I ain't even drunk," she retorted, passing the bottle back to Glenn. "And I'll get you back for dropping me."

He snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Those are some cute party tricks, girl. But can you actually _do_ anything?" T-Dog challenged slyly, leaning back in his chair.

Riley smirked, perking an eyebrow. "You wanna find out?"

He stood up, smirking as well. "Actually, I do."

Riley grinned evilly, standing up. In a minute, they pushed the table off to a corner of the room, leaving just enough room to spar. They took up positions opposite each other; T-Dog started jumping up and down and swinging his arms around to loosen up his muscles. Riley just stood with her arms crossed.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded, putting up a believable facade of nonchalance.

T-Dog was wary, but he charged her anyways, going for the straight-up tackle attack.

She dropped to the ground, sliding like a baseball player between his legs and snapping back up to her feet. T was confused for a second before spinning around. He went at her again, expecting for her to slide under him again. Instead, she ran towards him and did a one-handed cartwheel using his shoulder as a support.

He turned around again, eyes wide. "Damn, girl."

She shrugged, smirking. "Been doing this since I was a kid." Suddenly, she sprinted towards him. He crouched into a defensive position, preparing to block anything she did.

She jumped up, flipping over his back. She quickly turned around, locking her legs around his waist like he was giving her a piggy-back ride and wrapping her arm around his neck in a choke-hold.

"I win," she boasted proudly, slipping off.

"I'm drunk," he defended, trying to reclaim some of his pride.

"Yeah, yeah." Rick stepped up, pushing T away. "My turn."

Riley grinned, her green eyes glinting giddily. She LOVED sparring.

This time, she ran at him first. He aimed for a hook, but she grabbed his fist, twisting it hard to the left. She swung her body up, getting extra momentum from her right hand pushing off the ground. He bent forward instinctively from pain, and she wrapped her legs around his neck. She kept spinning, landing on her back and slamming Rick over onto his. She squeezed her legs together, laying on one of his arms. His other hand reached up to pry one of her legs off, but seeing as how she wouldn't budge, he tapped out instead.

Riley released him, jumping up and grinning at everyone's shocked expressions. That's right, she thought. No one messes with Riley Kate-

"My turn," Daryl said gruffly, passing over his whiskey bottle to Glenn and waltzing over to Riley.

Riley stared at him warily, smirking a little. He no doubt was going to be more of a struggle. He wouldn't have any fighting style except to win; he was going to be all over the place. It would be impossible to predict his moves.

She leapt for him, faking a hook, snaking her left fist towards his torso. He twisted away, reaching out and trying to push her head away.

She dropped to the ground, supporting herself on her left arm as she kicked him in the back of the knee. He fell on his back, and she jumped up, dropping squarely on his chest. She laid down, ensnaring her legs around his thighs. She reached out to grab his hands, but he had already wrapped them around her neck.

Instead of panicking and pulling hopelessly at his hands, one of her hands pressed on the pressure point at the back of his neck.

"Dammit!" he swore, instinctively dropping his hands. She leapt up, dancing away in an impressive show of back handsprings, cartwheels, and ending in a standing full. Daryl stood up, scowling as she smirked teasingly.

"Stop with tha cheerleadin' shit!" he growled.

"Fine," she answered, sprinting up to him. She tucked her leg under her body, sliding between his legs and springing back up.

His muscular arm wrapped around her neck from behind in a chokehold. She pulled her leg forward, planning on kicking his knee, but he fell backwards. He wrapped his legs around hers, pinning down one of her arms with his other one.

There wasn't _anything_ she could do. She gnashed her teeth together in frustration, before an idea popped into her mind. His arm was definitely snug around her neck, but she could still breathe. Not that he knew that. She went limp in his arms.

"Gotcha," he said proudly in her ear.

Her eyes fluttered shut.

"Riley?"

She held her breath.

Daryl's arms loosened around her, and her eyes snapped open. She grabbed his arm, flipping over and pulling him on top of her. She hooked one arm around his neck, bracing the other one against his head.

"Gotcha," she repeated, pushing him off and standing up.

He scowled, glaring at her from the ground. "Tha's cheatin'."

"No, that's strategy." She winked, picking up a wineglass from the table and tilting it into her mouth.

Carol leaned down and picked up a piece of paper that had fluttered onto the ground during the fight. She unfolded it, looking down at the little girl in confusion. "Riley?"

Riley turned around, her green eyes landing on the photo. The grin tumbled off her lips, her face draining of color.

"Who's this?" Carol asked innocently.

A lump rose in her throat at the blonde girl smiled cheerfully right at her. The wineglass slipped from her fingers, shattering on the ground. Riley jumped violently, the wine splashing on her boots. She meant to pick it up; she even bent down a little, but her hands were trembling so bad she knew the task would be impossible.

"I-" she stammed, the excuses in her head refusing to flow from her tongue.

I don't know her.

It's a friend's.

It's not mine.

Everyone was watching her. She stalked over to Carol, snatching it from the surprised woman's hands. She flipped it over, the blue ink confirming it was hers. She turned it back, staring at the girl for a second before pressing it to her chest. She quickly strode out of the room, nearly running down the halls.

Riley ducked into the first room she found, shutting and locking the door behind her. She gasped for air, feeling like an elephant was sitting on her chest, crushing her. She pressed her back against the door, sliding to the ground and pulling her knees up.

The picture was still clutched in her hands. She looked down at the crumpled paper, something clouding her vision.

_You're crying_, she realized, feeling a tear slide down her cheek. Stupid dumbass. What was crying going to do? She tried to convince herself to stop, but the child's blue eyes pierced straight into hers, refusing to let her look away.

She supported her elbows against her knees, dropping her head into her hands. She clutched the hair above her ears, rocking softly back and forth as she silently cried.

* * *

Riley wasn't drunk; she was sure of it. It was just the fatigue that was making her blink a little slower than usual and her emotions stronger than normal.

Why the hell was she sitting by herself in her dark room? Who knew how much time she had left; she'd be damned if she spent it drinking away the depression.

She stood up, stepping into the narrow hallway. As she walked down, heading for...something, a very familiar Indian woman stepped into the hallway.

Her brown eyes landed on Riley's green ones. She turned and tried to dart back into her room, but Riley slid between her and the door. "Please listen to me."

Simmie rolled her eyes, starting down the hall.

"Simmie, please," Riley pleaded, ducking in front of her. "You know I did the right thing."

"The right thing?! You killed our best friend!" She turned around and stalked the other direction.

"What else was I supposed to do?" Riley asked exasperatedly, spreading her arms apart.

Simmie whirled on her, brown eyes wide in rare anger. "I don't know! Let Daryl do it! You made it so...EASY to kill him; it's like you didn't care at all!"

Riley's nostrils flared as her blood boiled. She stepped up to Simmie, her eyes hard. "Don't say that. Killing him-"

"Was not something you had to do," she snapped.

"Yes it was!" Riley exclaimed. "Daryl didn't know him; he called Mark 'the fat guy'! He would have felt no remorse in killing him, Simmie! So I had to do it, because it hurt and it felt wrong and I didn't want to do it!"

Tears swam in Simmie's eyes. Riley knew that she was seeing things from the spy's point of view.

"I loved him too," Riley muttered lowly.

Simmie turned her gaze to the ground, nodding. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be. I would've been mad at you too," Riley responded. "Where are you going?"

Simmie rubbed her cheeks, wiping away the tear or two that had fallen. "Uh- I was going to talk to Lori and the kids. In the rec center."

"Oh," Riley said, glancing over her shoulder at the empty hallway. "Hey, do you know where Daryl's room is?"

"Right here, I think," she answered, pointing at the door to Riley's right.

"Wow," she muttered. He would be right where he could hear her and Simmie fight.

"See you later," Simmie said, stepping past her and walking down the hallway.

Riley knocked on the door, hearing Daryl's gruff "C'min."

She eased it open, walking in and closing it behind her. Daryl was sitting on his couch, surrounded by a couple of empty and full bottles of Southern Comfort.

"I go' front row seats ta a cat fight," he drawled.

Riley rolled her eyes, waltzing over and snatching the bottle from his hands. She took a chug, handing it back over and grabbing one of the half-full bottles on the ground.

"Whaddaya wan'?" he asked, his speech slurred as she plopped beside him.

"Ran out of beer. Thought you would be stocking up."

He grunted. Silence stretched around them for a second.

"Wanna play a game?" Riley questioned.

He cocked an eyebrow. Riley took that as a 'go on', so she plunged forwards. "I Never."

"The hell is tha'?"

"A drinking game. One of us says 'I never' and finish the sentence. If you've done it, you drink. If not, you don't. Ready?"

"Sounds like tha stupidest-"

"Sucks for you, then, 'cause you're playing. I'll start. I never kissed a girl."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "I am not-"

"Drink the damn beer, Daryl. We're both gonna get so drunk off our asses we won't remember it anyways."

Daryl huffed, taking a swig of his bottle. "We're alrea'y drunk off our asses. My turn?" She nodded, and he immediately said, "I never kissed a guy."

It was Riley's turn to roll her eyes as she sipped from the beer, turning so that her back was leaning against the arm of the couch. "Hm... I never had a one night stand," she said, smirking.

They both drank on that one. Daryl would never admit it, but he kind of liked this game. "I never lied 'bout bein' in the CIA."

She cocked an eyebrow, but the beer bottle stayed away from her lips. "I've never been to jail."

Daryl took a drink, and she grinned, muttering a triumphant "Knew it!" before she sipped.

"Wha'd ya go ta jail fer?" he asked, surprised.

"Not in the US," she answered. "And that wasn't I never." She prodded him in the thigh with her toe.

"Fine. I never lied 'bout runnin' ou' of beer jus' so I could talk ta a redneck." He smirked knowingly, turning his blue-eyed gaze on her.

She guiltily took a sip. "Damn, that obvious? I must be really drunk. I never didn't liked it when someone lied about running out of beer just so she could talk to a redneck," she returned, her eyes glinting as she leaned forwards.

Daryl jokingly started to raise the bottle. She scoffed, kicking him on the side and making him chuckle while she giggled and shook her head.

He looked off at the door, thinking. "I never killed someone."

"Walkers count?"

Daryl shook his head, aware of her sudden change of emotion. Her smile twisted down into a scowl as she took a drink. "I've never been in love."

He rolled his eyes. All women must be obsessed with love.

"Never?" she questioned. He nodded, and she chugged down the beer.

"I never ha' a daughter."

He looked at the ground for a moment. Riley was silent, and he risked a glance up. She was staring at him with narrowed eyes, immediately knowing what he was trying to do. But he could see the pain dancing in her green orbs as well. She looked like someone had kicked her puppy.

Riley stood up abruptly, taking a step towards the door.

"Nuh-uh." Daryl reached out and grabbed her wrist, tugging her back to the couch. "I answered all o' yer's."

She glared at him before sitting slowly back down. "A sister," she whispered, turning her gaze to the ground. A lump formed in her throat, and she tightly held onto the whiskey bottle, trying to distract herself from the pain bubbling in her chest.

"Did tha walkers...?"

"No," she answered, shaking her head. "She, uh, had leukemia." Riley licked her lips. "'Bout a couple years ago."

Daryl was quiet. "'M sorry," he mumbled, unsure of what to say. She just nodded, drinking again from the bottle, tilting her head so that her curls hid her face.

"That all?" she demanded blankly, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Fer now," he responded.

She stood up, stalking out of the room with the whiskey bottle.

She took a shower, drowning under the steaming water and her misery. She watched numbly as weeks worth of dirt, grime, and blood washed off her body, staining the sides of the clean, white tub and disappearing down the drain. She felt too clean; it didn't feel right. She had too much blood on her hands to ever be clean again. She didn't bother to dry off; she just tugged on a pristine blue tank top and plaid boxers before collapsing on the bed.

Riley Todd, the strong CIA agent who knew seven different ways to kill a person with just one hand, spent that night curled up on her bed with her dog at her feet, crying until her eyes ran dry.

* * *

**There we go! I hope Riley isn't coming off as a Mary Sue; in my eyes, she's as far away from a Mary sue as you can get... **

**Y'all finally got to see how good a fighter Riley is! She HAS been fighting since she was a little girl, so it's no surprise that she knows how to kick serious butt.**

**And you guys finally find out about Riley's little sister... At least, you found out the basics of it. Now y'all know why Riley gets so torn up about siblings. It's so sad every time I write about her lil sis, because I have a little sister who's eight, and I tear up every tibecame cause I can't help but relate this to my sister. ):**

**And WOW Daryl, of course you had to ruin Riley's night... Why couldn't you just shut up and be nice? **

**At least Simmie and Riley made up...(:**

**the lost mutant: Thank you! I was actually kind of worried that Daryl was OOC, but I'm glad you liked it! And hahaha sorry, but I live for cliffhangers.(;**

**Leyshla Gisel: Hey now, be nice to Simmie. (; Haha, I think that Simmie deep down understood what Riley did, but she had to take her anger out on someone who just happened to be her. But at least they're friends again! (: and thank you for reviewing!**


	10. Chapter 9

**Greetings, fellow TWD fans! I hope you all had a fabulous Thanksgiving and got fat! (: I probably would've had this chapter up sooner, but I had _almost _finished chapter ten when BAM. My iPad deletes everything I'd written.**_  
_

**Oh my gosh, you do not even begin to comprehend my rage. And I was so proud of it too D: Well, I couldn't post this chapter until I'd finished that chapter, so that was why it took so long!**

**Enjoy!**

**9**

**Birds With Broken Wings**

* * *

The man laughed loudly, pressing his hand against the small of her back. Riley knew he was just trying to claim his dominance over her, jealous of the way the other business men were staring at her. She did look rather stunning in her satin, blue, backless dress.

The phone nestled in her strapless bra began to vibrate. Riley's heart leaped; that was her work phone.

She shot the men a dazzling smile. "Excuse me," she muttered, standing up and walking away.

Riley went into the bathroom, pressing the phone to her ear. She watched as the cheerfulness in her green eyes faded, replaced by a grim certainty. She seemed to age several years, listening to the static from the phone. Her perfect, chestnut curls darkened to their actual color, scrunching into a wild, frizzy mess. Dirt appeared on her skin, and her dress began to rip like she had been in a fight.

"Mark?" she questioned, her voice trembling. "What's happening? Mark?"

Mark suddenly rose in the mirror behind her. The phone slipped from her shaking fingers as her blood turned to ice.

His flesh was rotting and bruised, and his eyes were glazed over. His stomach was torn apart, and his intestines were trailing on the ground. She could only watch in horror as he wrapped his arms around her, sinking his teeth into her neck.

She screamed as blood squirted from the wound, covering her face and dress. Her legs gave way underneath her as Mark pulled away, taking a chunk of flesh with him.

Her eyes snapped open, and she sat bolt-upright. Sweat dripped down her face, and her heart was pounding wildly in her chest. It took her a second for her eyes to adjust to the dark of the room.

Sky leaped onto the bed, licking her cheek and running over to the door. Riley sighed, pulling her hair into a low ponytail as she slipped into her dirty tank top and jeans. She let the whining dog out, heading down the hallway. Her head was pounding painfully, and she squinted from the glare of the bright lights.

She stumbled into the kitchen, collapsing into a seat.

"Somebody's _hungover_," T-Dog sang, plopping a plate of eggs down in front of her.

"Coffee," she groaned, the smell wafting over to her.

"Got it," he stated, patting her on the back. She put her elbows on the table, wrapping her hands around the steaming cup of coffee T handed her.

She could've danced. Coffee. Oh, she'd missed coffee.

Daryl was the last one to trickle in. Feeling more awake, she grinned at him. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty."

He rolled his eyes, too hungover to respond. Rick handed Riley a bottle of aspirin, and she downed three of them, snatching a piece of bacon from Lori's plate.

Jenner took them back into the main room, a video appearing on a huge screen. Riley stood next to Daryl and watched the screen light up.

The "synapses" were gorgeous. The blue lights flickered around them, dancing across their faces and the computers. It was like they were in an aquarium.

The brain started to go dark. Black branches over took the blue, replacing all the beautiful life with nothing but cold, empty death.

That's what happened to Mark, Riley thought somberly. That's what'll probably happen to all of them.

She watched quietly as the red lights flickered onto the screen, looking sinister and malicious compared to the tranquil blue of before.

"So... _They_ don't come back?" Riley asked after Jenner explained that the human part doesn't return. "What if the red lights go further, and it restarts more of the brain? Like, if they turned right after they died."

Jenner nodded, but he looked doubtful. "Could be. Have you seen it happen?"

Riley shook her head, silent again as Jenner explained to everyone about how he was alone. Her heart sank. No one was trying to fix this. They utterly were alone.

"You say you've been here a month... Have you found a cure?" Riley questioned, crossing her arms and leaning against a computer.

Jenner snorted. "No. I ran out of samples to test."

"We can get you some," she offered. "We'll stay with you, keep you company while you try and find it."

He didn't answer. Riley's eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward. Something wasn't right... It-

"That clock," Dale stated, pointing at the countdown on the wall. "It's counting down. What happens at zero?"

"The...basement generators run out of fuel," Jenner explained, his eyes casting towards the ground as he wandered away.

Riley's eyes widened. "I have a bad feeling," she admitted lowly, glancing at Daryl. He nodded in agreement as Vi announced that "decontamination would occur" at zero.

Her heart fluttered in her chest; whatever that meant it couldn't be good. She looked in the direction Jenner had walked, but he was already gone. T, Rick, Shane, and Glenn went down to the basement to try and find out more information.

"What do we do now?" Lori asked, looking around cluelessly. The confusion and apprehension was clear on everyone's faces; they were like chickens with their heads cut off without Rick.

"We go back to our rooms," Riley answered after a beat of silence, willingly stepping in for Rick. "Wait for some answers."

They all agreed, meandering back to their individual rooms. Riley fell into step beside Daryl, pushing her caramel locks behind her ear. "I have a bad feeling," she confessed quietly.

"Naw kiddin'," he scoffed. "Ain't nobody tryin' to find a cure."

"That too, but I meant about the basement generators." Simmie walked up on the other side of Riley, her eyebrows pinched together in obvious worry.

"There's nothing to worry about, right?" she asked, obviously seeking reassurance. Though why she'd come to Riley, the agent didn't know. She wasn't one for reassuring, and her Indian friend knew that.

"As of right now, no, you're good. But I have a feeling-"

Simmie groaned. "I hate it when you have a feeling."

Riley snorted. "Yeah, well, my feelings have saved my ass to many times to count. Hey, you got anymore beer?" she suddenly asked, looking at the redneck on her other side. "I ran out, for real this time."

A smirk tugged on the corner of his lips. "Yeah; I'll get sum," he said, waltzing down to his room. Riley stepped into her room, Simmie right behind. The two girls dropped onto the couch.

Daryl swaggered back in, tossing Riley one of the two whiskey bottles in his hands. He sat down on the edge of her bed, uncapping the lid and downing a large gulp.

Riley's fingers tightly clenched and unclenched the bottle, rolling her bottom lip under her teeth. Something wasn't right, and she knew it.

"What's wrong?" Simmie asked.

"Go get your stuff; bring it in here just in case," Riley stated, quickly taking a small sip.

Simmie's eyes widened in fear, and she visibly gulped before nodding and walking away.

"Ya treat her like a kid," Daryl pointed out.

"Someone's got to look out for her," Riley responded. She suddenly turned her blazing green eyes on him, urgency seeping into her voice. "Look, I have a really-"

The lights in their rooms suddenly went out. Sky let out a low whine whilst Riley snapped up to her feet. "Simmie?" she called through the open door, running over to the bathroom and stuffing in the few things she'd removed back into the bag.

Simmie strode in the doorway, brown eyes wide. She had her bag strung over her shoulder, and Daryl stepped around her, into the hallway. "The hell's goin' on?" he demanded as Jenner walked by.

"Go, follow Daryl," Riley ordered, nudging her out into the hallway, where all the others had congregated.

"The building is shutting itself down," Jenner explained, snatching the bottle from Daryl. "Prioritizing."

"Light's not a priority?" Riley demanded, right behind him.

"Wha' the hell can a buildin' do?"

"You'd be surprised," Jenner muttered, striding quickly into the main computer room. Rick, Glenn, T-Dog, and Shane all came running out from under the stairs, joining their group in the room.

"The system is designed to keep the computers running until the last possible second. We should be hitting the half hour mark. Right on schedule."

Jenner handed back the whiskey to Daryl, who glared angrily at the man as he started talking about the French. "The world runs on fossil fuels. How stupid is that?"

"We can get you fuel," Riley informed loudly. "We can take turns siphoning gas from all the abandoned cars-"

Jenner stubbornly shook his head. "It won't be enough. All the gas in the city wouldn't last a day." He turned around and headed off towards a computer.

"Lori, everyone, go grab your things!" Rick ordered.

An alarm suddenly pierced through their ears, making Riley and Simmie jump violently in surprise. Simmie whimpered, grabbing onto Riley's arm, her whole body trembling in fear. Riley forced herself to be calm; she had to be, for Simmie.

There was a loud, metallic clang, and Riley whirled around to see the door had closed. Horror creeped into her veins as she started to feel trapped. She hated this: she felt like a bird with a broken wing locked in a cage. Simmie clung on as tightly as she could to Riley's arm as the whole group turned to Jenner for an explanation.

Daryl suddenly charged Jenner, who started videoing himself. Shane and T pulled him away as Rick demanded for the door to be opened. Riley listened, Sky whining at her feet, as Jenner told them that they were trapped.

"What happens in twenty-eight minutes?" Rick asked urgently.

"We've protected the public from very nasty stuff!" Jenner shouted. "In the case of a catastrophic power failure or terrorist attack, HITs are deployed."

"HITs?"

Riley listened in utter horror as Vi defined HIT. Her heart sank to her feet, and she couldn't hide the terror slapped onto her face. Simmie let out a hopeless sob, clutching onto Riley, who looked shell-shocked.

"It sets the air on fire. No pain," Jenner muttered.

They couldn't die. They'd gotten through so much to die here, now. Riley wasn't going to let a damm _building_ decide when she was going to end; it would be her decision to make.

"Open the door," she breathed, her wide green eyes flickering onto Jenner. He didn't even acknowledge her. She untangled herself from Simmie, passing the sobbing woman over to Jacqui, who comfortingly wrapped her arms around her.

Riley stalked up to the door, yelling at the men who were attacking it with axes to move as she wrenched her gun out of her holster. Aiming at the edges, she squeezed her eyes shut and turned away as she let loose three bullets. She looked back to see nothing had happened. They hadn't even left a dent.

"Get out of the way!" Shane hollered, dashing up the ramp with an axe. Riley quickly jumped to the side, running back down to the floor.

She instantly started searching for an alternate way out. A door, a vent, _something_.

Shane descended as well, leaning against a computer and giving Rick a hopeless shake of the head. "We're not making a dent."

"Those doors are meant to withstand a rocket," Jenner retorted.

"Your head ain't!" Daryl shouted, launching himself at the doctor. Riley jumped in, holding his arm back.

Panicking wasn't helping. She wanted to scream in frustration; didn't these people see that?! She ran her shaking hands through her curly hair, forcing herself to think.

"Last night, that's what you said! You said it was only a matter of time before everyone you knew was gone!" Jenner exclaimed.

Riley exhaled shakily, pressing her palms against her eyes. Rick may have said the words of a man who'd given up, but he certainly wasn't acting the part of one.

"There IS no hope!"

"No hope?" Riley intervened, her voice as gentle as she could make it. Puppy eyes and screaming wasn't going to work; he was a scientist. But logic and reasoning would work. A calm, rational discussion is what he needed. Riley took a step forwards, standing next to Simmie, who was standing next to Carol and Lori on the ground.

"You say there's no hope," she continued, "but you keep a video diary. Why would you do that unless you believed that someday, someone would find your videos and try to piece together what happened?"

Jenner shook his head, but Riley could see the conflict in his dark blue eyes.

"Somewhere there are people out there-" Rick started before Andrea cut him off with her pessimistic views.

"We can't just give up!" Riley intoned, pointing a finger towards the crying children. "We owe it to them, to give them a chance!"

Shane suddenly yelled, aiming his rifle right at the man's head. Rick talked him down, but not before he took out his frustration on the computers. Riley flinched as glass shattered everywhere, grabbing onto Simmie and shielding her commotions flying shards of glass. Sky started barking, sprinting around the room, only adding to the chaos.

Riley glanced up at the Indian woman, whose brown eyes had taken on a dull light. Simmie looked up as well, making eye contact for a second. With a quiet moan, Riley realized that her friend had given up. Anger swelled in her chest; Simmie had given up hope that Riley would be able to save them. She had always believed in Riley before, but now Riley had let her down.

Not today, Riley inwardly growled. She let go of Simmie, who swayed softly on her feet, turning and listening to Jenner's story about his wife. Rick begged for a choice, but Jenner wouldn't hear him. The stubborn scientist sat down, tuning out Rick and staring forlornly at the big screen.

Riley stepped up to Rick, grabbing his shoulder. "Let me try," she muttered, and Rick gave in with a hopeless nod-what other option did he have?-, going to help Daryl with the door.

"Edwin?" Riley asked softly, crouching down next to him. He turned a fraction of an inch, surprised at the calm, gentle tone that was so different from everyone else's current voices. "Please, look at me." He turned the rest of the way, his depressed eyes locking onto hers. She reached forward, taking hold of his hands with hers.

"Edwin, you see that man attacking the door right now?" she questioned, glancing over her shoulder at Daryl before looking back at him. "It's a long story, but his brother was left handcuffed to a roof in the middle of Atlanta with walkers all around him. So his brother cut his own hand off, cauterized it, then jumped out a second-story window. He took our van and hightailed it in the other direction. His brother, the only person he cares about, _left_ him. But he's still fighting. He hasn't given up, and he couldn't care less about the rest of us. Andrea's sister turned into a walker right before her eyes, and she had to put a bullet through her brain. Carol's husband was chewed down to a skeleton. But do you see any of them giving up? They're still fighting, because they believe they have a chance out there."

He wasn't responding. Riley knew that what she'd said hadn't been enough; he'd need one more little nudge to win him over. She glanced down at her hands, licking her lips and preparing herself for what she was about to have to say.

"Edwin, I had a little sister." She turned her melancholy gaze on him, trying to push the overflowing pain over to him. She reached into her back pocket, carefully unfolding the picture and showing it to him. "Her name was Spencer. She was nine when she was diagnosed with leukemia." She tucked the photo away, blinking and trying to not start crying. "Edwin, you would do anything to keep your promise to your wife right?" The man gave a small nod, and Riley continued.

"That little girl made me promise to live. She made me swear to live so she could live her life through me." Edwin looked down at his lap, his brow crinkled in pain. Riley inhaled shakily, feeling tears gather in the corner of her eyes. "I've never begged for anything in my life, not when I was being tortured, not when I was dying of thirst in the rainforest, not even when my sister was dying. But right now, Edwin, I am begging you. Not for me, but for her. For Spencer." Her voice broke at the end, and she dropped his hands, looking down at the ground as she struggled to recollect herself. She pressed her palms against her eyes, feeling him suddenly stand up.

She jerked her hands away, watching as he slid his access card, making the door suddenly open. She leapt to her feet, eyes wide.

"For your sister," he said solemnly.

Riley kissed his cheek, nodding to him in thanks because she didn't trust herself to speak. She ran forward, whistling for Sky to follow. Her green eyes scanned the group of people at the doorway, and she realized that one vital person was missing.

"Simmie?!" Riley called, turning to see the woman standing stolidly next to a computer. The color drained out of Riley's face as she realized what Simmie had resigned herself to.

She had misread the look in her eyes earlier. She hadn't given up because she thought they couldn't get out; she'd given up because she wanted to die.

Riley charged the younger woman, grabbing her elbow and pulling her. "Come on!" she shouted.

Simmie pushed against Riley's arms, shoving her away. A tear slid down her cheek as she shook her head. "I can't- I can't go back out there, Riley!"

Riley's mind was spinning, the panicked screams from the group falling on deaf ears. Riley always had to fight for something; that's what got her through things. It used to be her sister she fought for, but, since she had died, it had been more for her sister's memory. And since the world had ended, it had become Simmie.

"You can't leave me alone, Simmie!" Riley yelled, shaking the woman. "I need you!"

"C'mon!" Daryl's voice hollered from behind Riley, grabbing the woman's arm and tugging her towards the door.

"No!" Riley exclaimed, wrenching her arm away from him. "Go, I'll be there in a second!"

Daryl was torn for a second before growling in frustration, turning and following the group down the hallway.

"Simmie, please!" Riley pleaded. "I can't do this without you! You can't die, not like this!"

"And you want me to be eaten instead?!" she screamed back.

"I won't let that happen!"

"You can't promise that!" Simmie wailed, dropping her head into her hands.

"No, you have to watch, because I'm not leaving without you," Riley growled, grabbing the woman's wrists. "I've lost Spencer and Mark, I can't lose you too! _Please_!"

Simmie just let out a sob. Riley's heart banged in her chest, seeing that they only had 3:40 left to get away. She whirled around, keeping a death grip on Simmie's wrists as they sprinted up to the first floor.

They arrived just as Rick stepped close to the window, clenching something in his hands. It took Riley a heartbeat too long to realize that everyone was running in the opposite direction. Daryl stood up from behind her, grabbing her around the waist and throwing her onto the ground, rolling on top of her. It finally clicked that Rick had had a grenade as Simmie smacked onto the ground, covering her head with her arms.

A deafening roar blasted through the building and a searing heat washed over them. Riley had her eyes squeezed shut, her ears ringing as Daryl snapped to his feet, wrenching her up as well. He pushed her through the window, and she stumbled, frantically grabbing onto Simmie as their group sprinted towards their caravan. A few walkers were heading their way, but Daryl easily dispatched the closest ones.

Riley shoved Simmie into the RV, Sky quickly scuttling up after them. She felt someone grab the back of her shirt, pushing her towards the end of the caravan. She stumbled again, nearly falling in her disorientation before Daryl grabbed her arm and hauled ass to his truck. His mouth was moving, but she couldn't hear over the buzz in her ears. He opened the side door, unceremoniously pushing her in before slamming it. His words finally registered in her brain, a hurried, "Get down!" as he jumped in the driver's side.

She dived face-down in the small space between the dashboard and seats, clapping her hands over her ears and squeezing her eyes shut. Daryl fell down on top of her as a thunderous sound rumbled out, making the grenade sound like a whisper. The truck gave a massive shudder, sliding a few inches away from the CDC.

Riley didn't move, her muscles clenched and teeth gritted painfully tight until she felt a hand pat her back. She removed her shaking hands, glancing up at Daryl, who was sitting up and staring in the direction of the building. Riley slowly pushed herself off the floor, crawling up into the seat. She turned her green eyes, shivering at the sight of the destruction. That could've been them. They could be nothing but ashes right now. Simmie could be ashes.

She looked over at Daryl, realizing that she had tears in her eyes, threatening to spill over. She opened her mouth to say something, but she was at a loss for words. There was nothing to say.

"What'd ya say ta change his mind?" Daryl asked.

One of the tears slipped down her cheek, and she turned her gaze towards the dashboard, not bothering to wipe it away. Daryl grunted, realizing an answer wasn't coming as he shifted the car into drive and followed the caravan out of the city.

He didn't say anything else as she sat unmoving like a stone, silently crying.

* * *

**Chapter Nine everybody! Honestly, I'm SO happy to be done with season one! I can't wait to write about Hershel's farm; I have so many ideas :D**

**A HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed! Y'all make me so happy when I get that special email; keep 'em coming!**

**Lahey: ...You're phsycic. That's the only explanation. But seriously, I'd planned for her to stay for forevsss and then you said it, and I had a mini spazz in the car.. Yeah, awk, but I was amazed! And thank you! You'll definitely like the next chapter: lots of Daryl/Riley-ness! Thanks for reviewing! :D**

**Leyshla Gisel: haha she kicks butt! But I guess anybody would be able to if you'd been training since you were twelve! And thank you (:**

**Band131: Aw, thank you! (:**


	11. Chapter 10

**Hey guys!**

**So...this chapter...kinda sucks. But I had to completely rewrite it after my stupid iPad deleted all of it ): I tried, but the first one was so mucH better /:**

**I just wanted to give a MASSIVE thank you to my new BFF Lahey for making this story's cover! THANK YOU(:**

**10**

**Liars, Zombies, and Suicidals**

* * *

About an hour or so later, the group stopped in someone's backyard, isolated from the city. Riley had stopped crying a long time ago, resorting instead to staring dejectedly out the window. Daryl jerked the truck to a jarring stop, frowning at the loud backfire.

"Some bucket of bolts you got here," Riley joked lightly, a small smirk playing across her lips.

"An' sum sad face ya got," he shot back, annoyed and trying to bother her. She _had_ insulted his truck.

He swore he saw a blush appear on her cheeks before she looked away. "Yeah, uh, let's keep that to ourselves, okay?" Before Daryl could answer, she climbed out of the car, merging with the still-reeling group.

"So where do we go now?" Lori asked, her thin arms wrapped protectively around Carl's neck.

"There's always Fort Bennin'," Shane said, rifle slung carelessly over his shoulders. "It'll be safe there: food, water, protection."

"Do we have enough fuel to make it?" Riley questioned from where she was crouched next to her German shepherd. "Daryl's truck's almost empty."

He scowled. When did she see that? He hadn't even seen her look in his direction once during the drive. Damn sneaky agent.

"I'm runnin' low too," T-Dog added.

Everyone looked at Rick. It wasn't a secret that the power had shifted from Shane to the new police officer. "There are some empty gallons in the back of Carol's 'wagon; you two siphon the gas out of y'all's cars and put it in the RV."

Daryl frowned but listened to orders anyways. Now was not the time to pitch a fit over his car. He started to exchange the fuel as Riley strode up to the truck, easily vaulting into the back. "Thank God we're leaving this rust bucket behind," she said, smiling teasingly as she started untying the bungee cords around the bike.

"Had this truck since I was a kid," Daryl muttered.

Riley glanced at him for a second before he smile got even wider. "Some sad face ya got," she repeated his earlier words before calling, "Shane!" The burly officer came over and helped her roll the bike onto the ground.

"You gunna move into the RV with us?" Shane asked. Daryl couldn't help but look up with a curious glance; he wanted to know as well. She caught his gaze, and he quickly looked away, feigning nonchalance.

"I thought I could ride the bike," she responded with a confused tone, hands on hips.

Daryl snorted, screwing the lid closed on the red gas carrier. "Hell naw."

"But you've been driving all day, and you drove the whole time the other day! Don't you need a break?" she protested. She clearly wanted the motorcycle.

Daryl turned to hide his amused smirk. "Ain't no wuss," he called over his shoulder, taking the gas to Rick.

Riley sighed, frowning at Shane. "Guess I have to," she grumbled. He chuckled, patting her back and walking her towards the RV.

She moved to the back, sitting in the little area with T-Dog. Daryl drove by on his motorcycle, missing the glare and rude gesture Riley sent him.

* * *

"Ha! Beat that!" Riley exclaimed proudly, throwing her winning deck on the small table.

T-Dog stared at the hand with huge eyes. "That's impossible!"

"Nope, you just suck at cards. Hand it over." The brunette beamed, holding her hand out expectantly.

"You cheated," he grumbled, giving her the small bag of pretzels they'd bet on.

"Yeah, yeah," she responded, tearing open the bag and tossing a handful down her throat.

"Oh, geez," they heard Dale mutter from the driver's seat.

Riley crossed to the front, leaning against the back of Glenn's seat. Her green eyes took in the sight of the overturned and abandoned cars littering the highway.

Daryl turned around on his motorcycle, stalling next to the driver's window for a second.

"See a way through?" Dale questioned. Daryl just nodded his head, motioning for them to follow as he started driving through a path.

"Bona fide chatty cathy we got there," Riley joked, making Glenn crack a brief, uneasy smile. Riley held the bag in front of him, offering a pretzel, but he declined with a shake of the head.

Glenn pulled out a map, pouring over the details. Riley smirked in amusement, leaning forward and turning the map so that it was right-side-up. "There's a highway bypass about-"

"We can't spare the fuel," Dale responded with a shake of the head.

"And I couldn't imagine where we might find some more fuel," Riley muttered, staring at the cars.

The RV suddenly jolted to a stop, white smoke billowing up from the front of the car. Dale huffed, clambering down the steps and examining the engine.

"Damn radiator hose!" he complained. Cans of food stacked in the back of a nearby car caught Riley's attention, and she started rifling through the contents. She saw Daryl approach, and she shifted aside, making enough room for him to start looking through the cans as well.

"This isn't right," Lori suddenly spoke up, hands on hips. Riley resisted the urge to roll her eyes; now was not the time to be moral.

But the annoyance was gone as soon as Simmie solemnly agreed, "This is like a graveyard."

Riley looked over her shoulder at the woman who was glaring at her; Riley'd been caught red-handed. She sighed, sharing a glance with Daryl before turning back to the car. They needed these supplies; this was a necessary evil.

"Think we can find any weapons?" Riley asked, checking the expiration date on a can of tomatoes before tossing it back.

"Think we can find a whole lo' of anythin'," Daryl answered.

Riley walked a bit further down the highway, spotting an SUV with suitcases on top. She stood on her tip-toes, fingers grappling towards the bags. Daryl came up beside her, easily pulling down the luggage for her. She gave him a small nod of thanks, dropping to her knees and rifling through the contents.

"Nothing but clothes and toothbrushes. Typical," she muttered.

"Hey," Daryl said from the backseat of the car. He waved a small medicinal bottle of lunesta, pills rattling inside. "Reckon these'll help with yer 'somania?"

Riley smiled in amusement. "Insomnia," she corrected, easily catching the bottle he tossed at her. She threw them back. "I don't want them."

She pulled out a pair of jeans, standing and holding them against her waist. They looked a little big, but they were clean.

"You goin' shoppin'?" Daryl questioned from the backseat of the car, an eyebrow cocked.

Riley rolled her eyes. "I need to. My clothes now are more blood than actual fabric." She crouched down again, sorting the frilly, girly clothes from the practical ones. She ended up with a gray world series hoodie, a handful of dark v-neck t-shirts, and two jeans. "Find anything else?" she asked. What she really needed was more bullets; she was starting to run-

Her thoughts were suddenly cut off as someone's hand clamped over her mouth and an arm circled around her waist, tugging her into the car. She instantly started prying at the hand before Daryl's face drifted into view. His blue eyes glinted in obvious warning, and he had a finger to his lips, gesturing for her to be silent.

Riley's brow furrowed in confusion as she nestled in the small space between the front seats and the back seats. He quietly eased the door shut before laying down on top of her, body flush against hers. Riley felt her blush, and she looked away, pressing her lips together in embarrassment.

The embarrassment quickly went away as moans filled the air. Riley's heart jumped into her throat, and her muscles tensed in fear. Her eyes widened at the sound of feet dragging across pavement. There were dozens of them.

A horrifying thought crossed her mind, and she grabbed Daryl's neck, pulling him even closer. Her lips brushed against his ear, making an involuntary chill run down his spine. "Simmie?" she breathed.

Daryl leaned back just a tiny bit, nodding. Riley let out a sigh of relief, but her relief morphed into fear as the first walker shuffled by. More followed, and Riley gritted her teeth. She was painfully aware of their rapid breathing, sounding deafening in the silent car. She could feel Daryl's heart ramming in time with hers in his chest. Riley squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that everyone else was hidden as well. She knew they could take a dozen, maybe two, but these numbers were quickly encroaching the hundred mark.

Riley didn't realize she was gripping the hell out of Daryl's arms until he shifted a hair. She let go, watching as he leaned up a little, peering out the window. He nodded, crawling up onto the seats and helping Riley sit up. He opened the car door and they quietly stepped out into the street.

Riley rapidly spun around, wide eyes scanning the road. She whirled on Daryl, stepping closer. "Where is she?" she whispered hastily, aware of the walkers' receding backs.

Daryl didn't have time to come up with an excuse. He didn't even have time to _think_ about an excuse. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt, her eyes blazing in anger. "You _lied_," she hissed.

A child's scream pierced the air, and Riley turned on her heel, instantly starting to sprint in that direction. Daryl grabbed her arm, yanking her back. "Rick's go' it," he said gruffly.

"Don't touch me," she growled, wrenching her arm away and heading back towards the yelp. Carol was sobbing next to the railing, and Lori was holding her.

"Simmie? Where's Simmie?" Riley demanded, grabbing Shane. He ignored her, moving over towards Carol. Riley huffed in frustration; yeah, they lost a child, but Riley cared more for Simmie than Sophia.

"I- I think she's in the RV," Dale said, gently touching her arm but keeping his gaze on Carol.

Riley nodded in thanks, patting his back as she ran into the RV. She froze in horror when the metallic stench of blood reached her nose. Blood was spattered everywhere, and Andrea was covered in it, crying on the ground next to a dead walker. "Simmie?"

Simmie appeared from the back room, shaking like a leaf. Her eyes were huge and rimmed red, and she had blood all over her. She stepped over Andrea, launching herself at Riley. Riley dragged her out of the Winnebago, sitting next to her on the bumper of the nearest car. She ran her hands over Simmie's arms, smearing the blood. "Are you okay?!" Simmie nodded faintly, her skin pale as a sheet. "Were you...?"

Simmie shook her head, swallowing the almost-visible lump in her throat. "No. Andrea saved me," she breathed, her voice shaking.

Riley exhaled sharply. "Simmie, I would've gotten you, but Daryl said-"

She raised her eyebrows. "And you trusted _Daryl_?"

Riley looked up, glaring furiously at the redneck. "Won't make that mistake again," she said, loud enough for him to hear her.

He huffed, rolling his eyes and crossing over to her. "Look, I couldn't have ya runnin' 'round in the middle o' that! Ya woulda killed all o' us!"

Riley's jaw clenched, but she looked away, a sign Daryl was quickly becoming familiar with that meant defeat. "Still a dick move," she grumbled unhappily.

Daryl, Shane, and Glenn went after Rick and Sophia, leaving the rest of the group to their own devices. Carol was in hysterics; it took everything Lori had to keep her on the road.

T-Dog suddenly stumbled into their circle, his arm ripped open and gushing blood. Riley instantly leaped into action, grabbing the teetering man. Dale quickly assisted her, and they struggled to lean him against the bumper. His head was lolling, and his eyelids were fluttering shut against his will.

"Dale, Andrea, get the body out of the RV," Riley ordered, taking control of the situation. "Simmie, get as many towels and shirts as you can find." They scrambled away, each working on their own jobs. Riley ripped the sleeve of T's shirt off, examining the bloody arm.

"God, what happened?" Riley asked, staring at the gruesome and deep cut. She could almost see the bone.

"C-C- The door-" T-Dog mumbled, his tongue refusing to work.

"Carl," Riley said, her voice softer than with the others. The boy's wide, shimmery eyes turned on the woman. "I need you to get as many water bottles as you can find."

"Sh-Shane found a truck full of water," Carl stammered.

Riley shot him a huge grin. "That's fantastic. Here," she tossed him her empty water bottle. "Fill yours and mine up." The boy nodded, turning and jogging down the road.

Dale and Andrea dumped the corpse over the rail before struggling to get T into the back part of the Winnebago. They laid him down on the small bed, the two hovering nervously over her.

"Andrea, go help Carl with the water. Dale go...keep watch," she ordered, just trying to get them off her back. They bustled out of the RV, and Simmie entered. Simmie handed Riley a plethora of shirts. Riley tossed one back at her. "Try and clean all the blood up."

Sweat rolled down her face, and Riley wiped the back of her hand across her head. She pulled her hair up in a thick bun at the nape of her neck, tightly tying one of the shirts above the cut as a tourniquet. The RV was stifling, and Riley was seriously worried about heat stroke. T-Dog already seemed a little delirious as it was.

Riley tugged off her tanktop, sitting only in her black sports bra. Carl and Andrea appeared at the door, handing Simmie a few water bottles. Simmie transferred them to Riley, who poured one on T's arm, cleansing the wound. She poured another on his head, trying to keep his temperature down.

Riley pressed a shirt on his wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. With a quiet moan, T's eyes rolled back, and he fell unconscious.

Simmie gasped, leaning over Riley's shoulder. "Is he-?"

"No," Riley answered. "He just passed out. Give me some room, okay?"

Riley's frown deepened as the blood swiftly soaked through the shirt. She tossed it aside, using another one. Even with the tourniquet, the cut was gushing blood.

Riley huffed in frustration. She wasn't a medic; the extent of her knowledge was limited to slapping a bandaid on it and hoping for the best. Her eyes shifted out the window to where Shane and Glenn emerged from the woods. She beat on the window, drawing Shane's attention.

He entered the car, peering over her shoulder. "What happened?"

Riley shook her head. "I don't know. It's bleeding like a bitch, though." She looked up at him, her green eyes wide. He'd never seen Riley as anything other than a strong, independent individual, but now, she looked exhausted and overwhelmed. "I'm not a doctor, I don't know-"

"Hey, it's okay," Shane stated, putting a hand on her bare shoulder. "Why don't you come outside, get sum fresh air?"

She frowned at T-Dog for a second before nodding and following him out. The heat wasn't any better, but at least she didn't smell blood anymore.

"Why don't you keep lookin' for supplies?" Shane offered.

Riley nodded. "Sure." She saw Glenn nearby, and she walked over to him. His eyes widened, and he blushed a little at her bare stomach. "Wanna help me?"

"Uh- okay," he responded, grabbing a crate. They walked over to the nearest car, Riley easily vaulting up onto the front and pulling some of the suitcases down from the roof.

"Rick and Daryl are still looking?" she questioned.

Glenn nodded. "She started heading back towards the highway, but then she went the other way."

Riley frowned. "She's- what, eleven?- she can't have gotten far." She started handing him some clothes and toiletries.

"Twelve. You think they'll find her?" he asked nervously, brown eyes shining with worry.

Riley gave the kid a small smile. "I think the odds are on our side." It was true; she was young and slow, and she had Daryl looking for her. "Plus, Daryl's out there. He'll find her."

A knowing smile crept onto his face. "So... You and Daryl?" he questioned, careful to not look at her.

She scoffed, slapping the back of his head. "God, no! We're not even friends," she grumbled, even though she knew it wasn't true.

It wasn't some miraculous epiphany. It wasn't a sudden realization that hit her out of the blue; she just knew. The way they unconsciously started gravitating towards each other whenever they were in the same vicinity, the secret glances they shared with each other, the smiles they tried to hide. Somewhere from the huge tangle of arguments and fights and hate, a genuine friendship had unraveled, sneaking up on the both of them. They _were_ friends. It was weird to even think about, considering how less than seventy-two hours ago they couldn't stand to be anywhere near each other.

"What?" he demanded. "It's not that much of a stretch."

"Uh, try _huge_. It's like saying you and Rick-"

His eyes grew huge, and his nose crinkled up in disgust. "Oh, God, just stop right there."

Riley grinned, a giggle slipping out of her mouth before she could help it. He smiled as well, even though he still looked grossed out.

"So, your shirt wasn't good enough for you?"

Riley glanced down at her toned stomach, shining with sweat. "It's too hot down here."

"Where are you from? You don't have an accent."

"Neither do you," the woman pointed out, opening the console. "Bingo," she muttered, dropping the gun in Glenn's crate. "I'm from Montana."

"What were you doing in Atlanta?" Glenn asked.

"Simmie lives in this god-forsaken place. I'd just gotten back from a mission, and I wanted to visit her."

"So, you really were in the CIA? Like, a spy?"

Riley nodded. "Yup," she answered, popping her lips on the 'p'.

"Man, I wish I had a cool job like that," Glenn mumbled grumpily. Riley opened the back of a small Sudan, searching through the contents.

"What'd you do?" Riley inquired.

"I was a pizza guy," he responded.

Riley grinned. "I'd like a pepperoni, please," she teased, making him roll his eyes and smile.

When the sun started to go down, bathing their surroundings in a pinkish-gold light, Glenn and Riley dropped off another full crate of supplies. This place was like a gold mine.

Riley heard the last bit of Shane and Andrea's conversation. "That sounds like a good idea," she said, supporting Shane. "I could help."

Shane's response was cut off by Glenn, who exclaimed, "They're back!"

Riley watched solemnly as Carol had a small meltdown. She didn't quite blame her; Riley would've been doing much worse if she was in the frantic mother's shoes.

What she didn't appreciate was Carol putting all the blame on Rick. She scowled, listening as the mother dumped all the fault on him. He had done the best he could with the amount of time he'd been given.

Lori lead Carol away, and Rick walked away, the burden visible on his shoulders. Riley caught Daryl's gaze, and he crossed over to her.

"What happened?" she demanded quietly, following him to a car. He sat down on the bumper, cleaning his arrows.

"Trail go' faint," he answered. He caught sight of her arms, covered to the elbows in blood. She saw where he was looking, and he didn't even have to ask.

"T got cut up pretty good." They both looked up, seeing the black man with a towel tied around his arm helping Shane.

"An' it go' on yer shirt?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked as he looked at her (rather toned) stomach. She had the faint outline of a four pack.

The corner of Riley's lips twitched up in a small smirk. "I hate the heat."

Daryl snorted. "Wuss."

"Ass," she retorted, smiling and shoving his shoulder with hers.

"Bitch," he shot with a smirk, pushing her shoulder back.

She smiled, catching Glenn's curious gaze from across their little group. He winked, and she scowled. "I liked it better when they were all afraid of me," she grumbled.

Daryl shook his head. It was quiet for a while. "Glenn and I found a lot of stuff. I found some darts; I was thinking maybe you could break off the ends and make arrows out of them."

He grunted. "Maybe."

They are quiet for a while later, until Riley sighed exasperatedly, throwing her hands up in the air. "Okay, I give up, what's it take to get a conversation out of Daryl Dixon?"

He smirked, looking down at his arrows. "Tell 'im what ya said ta Jenner," he answered.

Her eyes narrowed playfully, but she was still smiling. "Why do you care?"

He shrugged. "Jus' curious." He really wanted to know. What had Riley said that a gun to his head and several crying mothers and their kids couldn't get through to him?

Riley stood up, shaking her head. "Curiousity killed the cat," she quipped annoyingly. "I'm gonna talk to Rick."

She weaved through the cars, finally finding him sitting against a small Altima. She crouched down next to him.

"Rick, you're a damn good police officer," she started, knowing it would take some coaxing for him to listen to her. "And I can imagine that you've been in several fast, high-pressure situations. You know as well as I do that things get hectic- your mind doesn't work right. It doesn't have enough time to process everything at once. You don't think, you just DO. You did what you thought was right. You couldn't have known that Sophia would run off."

"But it's my fault," he responded, his voice low and raw with emotion. "I was with her; I shouldn't have left her."

"What would have happened if you stayed? Scenario A: you start fighting the first walker while the other one gets Sophia. Scenario B: you shoot both of them but bring the herd back down on our asses. Rick, either way _someone_ would've died. Listen," she demanded. He looked up, his blue eyes taking on a haunted look. "Sophia is not dead. She's out there, somewhere, and you can't give up on her. Not yet."

"Carol blames me," he mumbled.

"She's going to," Riley promised with a nod. "For a while. Rick, she can either blame you or herself, and she's not strong enough to deal with the guilt that comes with blaming yourself. If you hadn't gone after her, she would've blamed you for not helping her. She would've blamed all of us." He turned his gaze downwards. "As far as I'm concerned, you're innocent, chief. I'm on your side, and so is Lori and Carl and Shane and Glenn. T'll hear you out, and if Daryl's not on your side it's just 'cause of the whole Merle thing. So that just leaves Andrea, who's too depressed to blame you; Dale, who's too nice to hate you; and Simmie, who's on the same side as I am. Rick, everyone's going to have a problem with at least one of your decisions. But you don't have to deal with it alone."

Rick didn't respond. Riley reached out and touched his arm before heading back towards the group.

"Hey," she heard Daryl's voice say as she walked past a car. She turned, only to have a shirt thrown at her face. She frowned, looking down at one of the shirts she'd found earlier at the SUV with Daryl before turning her gaze on him.

"It ain't gunn' bite ya," he grumbled. "It'll be cold soon."

Riley was inwardly confused; he'd gone all the way back to that truck to bring her a shirt without her even asking. Daryl had actually been...nice? _Who are you, and what have you done with my belligerent redneck?_ She slid the shirt over her head. It was a little too big; the neckline dipped down to reveal a portion of her sports bra.

"How'd yer talk with Rick go?"

She sighed, propping one of her feet up on the bumper next to him. She leaned forward, touching her toes with her hand and feeling her muscles stretch. "You can imagine. He thinks it's his fault."

"Ya don' think so?" he questioned, glancing up at her with his blue eyes.

"No; he did what he thought was best. He tried, and that's enough for me." She switched legs. "I am kinda surprised you didn't stick an arrow through his brain when he had his back turned," she said, only half-joking.

He scowled. "I shoulda. He deserved one," he grumbled.

"Oh, don't pout," she teased, shooting him a wicked grin before turning around and walking towards T-Dog. "Hey, man, how ya doing?"

T shrugged, looking down at his cut. "Hurts like a bitch, but I'll live."

"Tomorrow after we look for Sophia, I'll see if I can't find any Advil."

He nodded. "That'd be great. Thanks for takin' care of me while I was out."

She smiled, patting his back. "Anytime, T. I owed you for cheating at cards." She turned, grinning at his outraged, "What?!" before nearly running smack into somebody.

Riley jumped in surprise before realizing it was just Daryl. She exhaled in relief, glaring at his amused smirk. She slapped his chest, exclaiming, "God- Stop that!"

"Stop wha'?" he questioned, fighting the urge to chuckle at the animated woman.

"Moving around like a goddamn ninja," she muttered, walking over and leaning against the side of the truck where Simmie and Andrea were making a pallet in the back. "How are you two doing?" she asked, more out of courtesy than actual concern. She didn't really care so much about Andrea's feelInge.

Simmie gave the older woman a tiny smile. "We're okay."

"Have you eaten dinner yet? We found a good amount of food; there's enough for both of you to share a can."

Simmie shared a glance with Andrea before Andrea said, "We're not that hungry."

Riley raised an eyebrow. "Neither of you? Simmie, you haven't eaten since the CDC."

"I'm fine."

Something was wrong. Simmie was being very careful not to look at Riley for more than a second when they talked, and Simmie was trying to look busy.

"Ya should eat," Daryl spoke up, slightly surprising Riley. She was too concerned about her friend to marvel at the fact that Daryl was helping her. "Ya're gonna need yer strength to go lookin' fer Sophia tomorrow."

"Come on, Simmie, just-"

"She said she's fine, okay?" Andrea snapped. "Just leave her alone."

Riley's jaw clenched, and she felt a fist forming. Who the hell did this bitch think she was? Had she known Simmie since she was six? Had she kept Simmie alive even when she didn't want to live? "Excuse me?" Riley uttered, her voice shaking in anger.

"You already forced her to live; you gonna force her to eat too?"

Riley grabbed onto the side of the truck, going to vault herself over and _whale_ on this girl. But Daryl grabbed her around the waist, jerking her down. She was too furious to think about anything other than how satisfying it would feel to sink her fist into Andrea's face. Daryl shoved her away, leading her away from the two surprised women.

"Oh my _God_," Riley exclaimed, tugging on the hair at her temples as she started furiously pacing. "I will kill her. I'm going to kill her!" she promised to Daryl, who was watching her warily.

"I don' think it's a good idea fer Simmie ta be hangin' 'round Blondie." When Riley sent him a confused glance, he elaborated, "She tried to stay too, but Dale wouldn't let her."

Her eyes flashed, and she spun on her heel, starting to stalk back to the truck. "Oh HELL no," she growled. She'd be damned if she let Andrea put suicidal thoughts into Simmie's mind.

Daryl jumped in front of her, blocking her route. "Ya cain't kill her; we need as many hands as we can ta find Sophia." He knew better than to bother with the 'moral reasons'; she needed facts to make sense.

Riley hissed in frustration, sinking her fist into the nearest car. "I could kill someone right now."

"Yeah, yeah. Jus' git sum sleep." He tossed her a bottle, and she reflexively caught it, looking down at the lunesta pills.

"I don't want this," she responded, throwing it back.

"Ya wanna sleep?"

"No," she retorted with a slight sneer, surprising him. "Those make me drowsy, and I'm not gonna use them. 'Night Daryl." She turned around, careful to take the long way to the RV so she could avoid Andrea and Simmie's car. She easily climbed the ladder, plopping down next to Dale in his lawn chair.

Daryl scoffed quietly, shaking his head. That girl was a real piece of work.

* * *

**...YEP. A really long chapter pretty much full of crap. /: **

***coughcough* FILLER CHAPTER *coughcough***

**On the other hand, WHOA. Daryl and Riley don't hate each other's guts anymore! YIPPEE. I hope I didn't make that transition from enemies to almost-friends too fast...**

**Uh-oh... Andrea and Simmie are hanging out... Makes you wonder what all depressing stuff Andrea is saying to her. Haha and Riley doesn't really like Andrea too much XD**

**Leyshla Gisel: It really is one of the worst ways to die... Having your body blown to bits... Yuck! And I hope this chapter didn't disappoint you TOO much! Thank you for reviewing(:**

**Lahey: Hahaha XD And you mean boo Simmie lived or boo Andrea lived? Haha I'm confuzzled! But I agree. The Gov is just too creepy .. Dx Haha thanks for reviewing(:**


	12. Chapter 11

**HOLY CRAP. This chapter's super long. Hahahah bear with me pleaseeeee(: A bunch happens in this one guys.**

**WOW LIKE OMG WOW JUST I CAN'T EVEN. The mid season finale makes my heart HURTTTTTT. Like, Daryl's terrified "What do we do now, brother?" face... GAH ASHLEFNCIJDWNOWJ. I can't. **

**11**

* * *

Riley stayed up the whole night again. The full five-or-so hours of sleep at the CDC would be enough for a couple of days. She knew it wasn't healthy, but she had nothing against it. She'd rather be exhausted than have nightmares. She spent a good majority of the night walking along the highway, trying to see into the inky darkness of the forest. The sooner they found Sophia, the sooner they'd be able to leave. She hated being on the highway; it was too exposed for her liking. She hadn't really liked the camp in the woods either. What they really needed was a place like the CDC: small, contained, easy to guard. Being out in the open wasn't something she enjoyed.

When morning finally came, they started devising a plan. Riley suggested they split up and search in quadrants, but Rick wanted to stay together since they were unfamiliar with the area.

It wasn't until Sky came bounding up that the idea even occurred to them. She'd been MIA since before the herd passed through, but Riley hadn't been worried. Now as the dog dropped a rabbit at her feet and sat, Riley felt hope blossom in her chest. She fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around the canine's neck and kissing her snout.

"Good girl," she cooed, rubbing her silky fur.

"Carol, do you have something of Sophia's?" Rick asked. The woman nodded, scampering off to collect the item.

"Does anybody have any rope we could use as a leash?" Shane added. Someone handed him a thick, white rope, and he handed that to Riley. "You think Sky can find her?"

"I don't know," Riley answered, tying the rope to her collar and standing up.

"You said she was a police dog," he accused.

"Yeah, but that's all I know. She obviously was a narc dog, but I'm not sure about search and rescue." At the group's confused gazes, she realized they'd all assumed that Sky was hers. "She isn't my dog," Riley elaborated. "I found her in the woods before I met you all."

Rick nodded. "Either way, she has a good nose. She's our best hope right now."

Carol handed Riley a blanket Sophia often slept with. Riley pressed it against Sky's nose, and the dog started wagging her tail. "Got it? Okay, Sky, find!"

The German shepherd didn't respond, tongue lolling innocently out of her mouth as she gazed around at their group.

"Uh, hunt?" Nothing. "Go get her?" Nada. "Search!" Sky's ears suddenly perked up, and she stared up at her new owner. Bingo. Riley let Sky sniff the blanket before ordering, "Search!"

The dog leaped up, her nose against the pavement as she ran around in circles. They figured since the smell of cars and gasoline was so strong that Sky wouldn't find the scent. Their little group ventured back to where Rick and Daryl had stopped yesterday, and suddenly Sky gave a little yelp. The dog started running around, nose on the ground as she caught the scent. Riley struggled to hang onto the rope as Sky led them through the forest. They went up and down hills, through ravines and dried creek beds.

The sun was started to creep down from its peak in the sky before church bells started echoing through the forest. Rick and Shane instantly sprinted in the direction, but Riley didn't budge. "Chief!" she called. Rick spun around. "The scent goes this way!" she exclaimed, pointing in the opposite direction.

Rick bounced up and down on his heels, trying to think. "Okay, okay, Daryl, Simmie, go with Sky. Rest o' y'all, follow me!" They sprinted away into the underbrush, and it suddenly seemed very quiet.

Sky whined like she was trying to remind Riley she was there. She turned, and they all headed in the opposite direction. For a long while it was quiet; something was obviously up with Simmie (she'd been avoiding Riley all day and wouldn't hardly talk to anyone other than Andrea), and Daryl was being...Daryl.

"Hey, we need ta take a break," Daryl suddenly said.

Riley stopped. Sweat had soaked her shirt, and her legs were tingling. Sky plopped down on her stomach, sides heaving. Daryl seemed okay, but Simmie was exhausted. She sat down.

Riley sighed. The longer they sat around, the colder the trail went. Riley could jog after Sky all day, and she figured Daryl could too, but Simmie was a different story.

Daryl was chugging his water bottle, but Simmie wasn't. "Simmie," Riley called. The Indian glanced at her before quickly looking away. "You need to drink; you'll get dehydrated."

Simmie obediently took a tiny sip from her bottle. Riley crouched next to her, offering a small smile. "You'll need a little more than that."

Simmie ignored her. Riley stared at her, stunned into silence. Simmie might as well have slapped her across the face. If it wasn't for Daryl she would've started yelling at her.

Instead, she huffed in irritation, standing up and stalking away. Daryl followed her, watching as she ran both hands through her hair like she always did when she was upset about something.

"Ya okay?" he asked, wary of getting bitched at.

"This is Andrea's fault," Riley stated. "She's turning Simmie against me."

"Cain't know that fer sure," Daryl responded.

"What else is there?" she demanded, turning to look at him. Her eyes suddenly widened, and she muttered a panicked, "Oh shit!" before sprinting past him. "Simmie!" she called, warning her of the mammoth of a walker quickly approaching her.

Right before the walker lunged for Simmie, Riley ran into him, wrapping her arms around his torso and sending him to the ground. She had forgotten about the hill they'd sat next to, but she was painfully reminded as they sailed down the slope. Rocks beat at her back, twigs snatched at her skin, and the walker tried to grab at her flesh. An especially sharp rock between her shoulder blades sent a shock up her arms, making her release her grip. She rolled away from the walker, tucking into a tight ball and hoping she wouldn't break her neck.

She slammed painfully into a tree, her head smacking the hard bark. The forest started blurring and darkening at the edges. She wanted to just sit there, but somewhere in her subconscious she remembered she was running from...something. She struggled to her feet, her surroundings spinning like a top. The ground slipped out from underneath her, and she rolled down the remaining stretch of the hill.

She hit the bottom hard, laying stunned for a second. She could hear several people calling her name, but she was distracted by the two walkers that fell on top of her.

Riley cried out- half in pain at the crushing weight, half in the uncharacteristic fear that flared up. It took everything she had to keep the walkers' snapping jaws away. Wait, was it one walker or two? The face kept moving and spinning and blurring so that she couldn't be sure.

Suddenly, a dark form streaked across her vision, pushing the walker off. Inhuman growling and snarling mingled with the horrible moans. Riley struggled to sit up, but the dark spots encroaching the corners of her eyes started filling up the rest of her vision. She tried to at least crawl away from the sounds of the walker, but her body wasn't listening.

A face drifted above her, but Riley couldn't tell who-or what-it was. It was saying something to her, but she couldn't hear. An arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her up into the air. She slung uselessly over someone's shoulder, a back filling her vision.

"Riley?" someone called above her.

She felt like she was laying in a deep chasm and someone was talking to her from the lip of the abyss. Something touched the back of her head, and pain shot through her body, making her eyes snap open.

A walker was leaning over her. She gasped, fist sailing up and connecting with its face.

The walker let out loud shout of pain. "God dammit!" it exclaimed, reeling back.

Riley sat up quickly, her head spinning. She exhaled sharply, reaching up and clutching her head. She felt blood matting her hair, and she inched her fingers towards where a throbbing knot had formed on the back of her head. She looked around in confusion. Simmie was standing a little ways back, eyes wide in fear. Sky was sitting next to them, blood staining her snout. Daryl was right next to her, hand cupping his nose. She didn't recognize their surroundings; the last she remembered was...was...talking to Daryl?

"Whal halfen?" she asked, her speech slurring.

"Wha'?" Daryl questioned.

Her ears started ringing, and she clutched at her temples. She was exhausted, and her head was aching. "Whal...halfen?" she repeated.

Daryl put two and two together, figuring she was asking what happened. "Ya tackled a walker an' fell down a hill."

"You hit your head against a tree," Simmie added. "Then you kept falling and the walker... fell on you."

She was staring at them in shock and confusion. How come she couldn't remember that? She struggled to her feet, hanging on to a nearby tree for support.

"Did ya git bit?" Daryl suddenly demanded, stepping closer to her. The question didn't register, and she just looked at him in confusion. "Did. Tha walker. Bite. Ya?" he asked again, slower.

Riley's eyes widened. "I don't... I don't know. I don't think so." She ignored the pain, trying to push past the haze. She couldn't remember if the walker had bit her. She couldn't even remember the walker.

Daryl visibly gritted his teeth together before looking up at the sun, which was rapidly approaching the horizon. "C'mon; we should be gettin' back 'fore it gets dark."

Daryl stepped closer to Riley, holding his arms out. She found that her thoughts were thick and muddled, taking longer for her to uncover their meaning. When she finally realized he was wanting to carry her, he'd already leaned down and put his arm under her knees.

"No," she protested faintly, struggling to push him arm away. He froze, his face very close to hers. Her brow furrowed as his blue eyes pierced straight into hers, making her lose her train of thought. Her heart thudded in her chest, and her breath hitched in her throat. After a second of them just staring at each other, he moved to pick her up again.

Remembering what she was trying to do, she pushed meekly at him one more time. "I ca' walk," she argued, her tongue thick in her mouth.

Daryl shot her a skeptical look, but threw his hands up in defeat, taking a step back. She scowled; she wasn't weak. She could take care of herself. Riley pushed off the tree, swaying unsteadily on her feet. She took a step, and her knee gave out. The ground suddenly pitched forward.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there," she heard Daryl softly mutter in her ear, his arm snaking around her back and keeping her from falling. He wrapped one of her arms around his neck, holding her hand.

A loud bang split through the air, making everyone (except Daryl) jump in surprise. The deafening noise made her mind rattle, and she groaned, hanging her head.

"Was that a gunshot?!" Simmie demanded, his voice high-pitched in fear.

Daryl listened, his muscles coiled like rope, waiting for another one to pierce the silence. But nothing else did.

"W-Why just one?" Simmie questioned, eyes wide.

"Dunno," Daryl answered, glancing at Riley. Her brow was crinkled in concentration, and her breathing was uneven. "Bu' we need ta git back."

They headed back, making slow process through the forest. Daryl just hoped that no walkers would show up; they'd be in real trouble then. The farther they got, the more Riley leaned on him. Her breathing was becoming more ragged by the second, and she was turning a sickly green color.

"Is she- I mean, will she-" Simmie stammered.

"She'll be fine," Daryl grunted. Not like you cared, he added in his mind. Riley's legs were starting to drag, and carrying her like this was getting harder and harder. He wanted to just pick her up, but her damn pride refused to let herself be coddled.

By the time they neared the highway, a thin glean of sweat had covered her skin. Her eyelids were fluttering open and close, and her head was lolling. Daryl was starting to get a little concerned; Riley was the toughest bitch he knew, but seeing her so weak was putting him a little on edge.

They started up the little hill to the highway, and Riley slipped. To hell with it, Daryl thought, picking her up bridal style. She was almost limp in his arms, still managing to put up a meager fight.

"What happened?!" Dale demanded, jogging up and uselessly hovering over him.

"Back up," Daryl growled, stepping into the RV and laying her on the bed in the back. He could hear Simmie staying outside, explaining to Dale and T-Dog what had happened. Her eyes opened a little in confusion, and she peered up at him.

She was completely vulnerable. He knew it, and, by the scared look in her eyes, she knew it too. She could hardly stand, let alone fight. Hell, she couldn't even think. Her green eyes were huge and distrustful, like she thought he would try to harm her.

"I ain't gunna hurt ya," he promised lowly, the words jumping out of his throat without him being able to stop them.

Riley stared at him for a minute longer, obviously waging an internal war. She swallowed nervously before giving him a minute nod and halfway relaxing. He turned to leave, but he felt a hand suddenly grab his wrist. He turned back and saw a different kind of fear shining in her eyes. "Stay," she whispered.

Daryl wasn't sure if she'd actually said that or just imagined it. Why the hell would she want HIM to stay? Him, of all people. He was just Daryl Dixon: there was nothing special about him.

"Please," she added. Daryl huffed in frustration, sitting across from her. Her cold fingers fell away from his wrist, folding over her stomach.

As soon as he had sat, Dale came in. He paused in the hallway, catching sight of Daryl sitting (almost protectively) next to the injured woman. Daryl noticed him, shooting him an irritated gaze.

Dale handed him a full water bottle. "She needs to, uh, be kept hydrated. And you should probably clean her wound-"

Daryl snatched the bottle from him. "I know how ta take care o' somebody."

Dale blinked in surprise. "Okay, I just don't want her to get infected."

"'Right here guys," she informed, a small smirk crossing her bruised features.

Dale shot her a paternal smile. "Sorry. I'll be right outside if you need anything."

"Thanks," she mumbled, her mouth feeling like she'd been sucking on cotton.

As soon as Dale had gone, Riley glanced pointedly at the water bottle. Daryl handed it to her, and she struggled into an upright position. Her head started spinning, and Daryl quickly helped her so that she was leaning against the wall. She took a small sip before rubbing her temples.

"I don't remember anything," she muttered, frowning.

"Nothin'? Wha' was tha last thing ya 'member?" Daryl asked.

"I...got mad at Simmie," she answered slowly, brow furrowed in concentration. "And then...I think...I started talking to you?" Daryl nodded when she looked to him for conformation. "And then..." she trailed off, hopelessly shaking her head before wincing. "Ouch."

"Lean forwards," Daryl commanded. She shot him a wary look before slowly obliging. "Turn yer head tha' way."

She did as he said, turning her solemn gaze out the window. Daryl scooted closer, gently pulling out the ponytail that was barely hanging onto the ratty hair. He froze for a second, waiting for her to wince, but she didn't show any visible signs of pain. He could see where the thickest amount of blood matted down the hair, and he brushed the hair into two separate sections with his fingertips, being as gentle as he could. Her shoulders suddenly gave a small quiver, and he could see the goosebumps rising on her skin.

Daryl felt a smirk planting itself on his face, knowing that there was no chill to make her shiver. His eyes drifted to her smooth neck. He suddenly felt the urge to lean forward and press his lips against the dirty skin. For the first time since he'd met her, he actually felt in control of her. He wanted to make her shudder again.

"Stop smiling," she ordered weakly, snapping him out of his trance. Remembering what he was supposed to be doing, he poured the rest of the water on the cut. It wasn't too deep, just dirty and bruised.

"Ya need a shower," he pointed out. You couldn't even tell that the water dripping from her hair was water; it was a stream of blood and mud.

She didn't respond. "Riley?" he asked, leaning around her shoulder. Her face had drained of color, green eyes covered by dark lashes that rested faintly against her cheeks. Her jaw was clenched, and she was swaying slightly.

"Hey, hey," Daryl muttered, knowing she was about to pass out again. He wrapped an arm around her neck, slowly easing her down on her back. She didn't open her eyes, clutching her hands together. He could tell she was fighting the unconsciousness, so he poured some of the water on her forehead. She swallowed uneasily, opening her eyes and focusing on the ceiling high above.

"Dunno if ya 'member or not, but Simmie was screamin' her head off when ya fell down tha hill," Daryl stated. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes slightly glazed as she struggled to focus on him. Her lips were a faint shade of blue. Against the pallor of her skin, he noticed for the first time the freckles that spotted her face. "Ya hit the tree, an' I thought she was 'bout ta go after ya herself. But then ya kept rollin' an' the walker dropped on ya. I tried to get ta ya, but yer mutt go' there first."

Riley's eyes widened in a faint panic, and her lips soundlessly tried to form words. Daryl shook his head. "She didn't git bit. But she bit the hell outta tha' sucker," he added with a chuckle. It had been a surprise to see the normally calm dog rip into the walker with a ferocity he didn't know she'd contained.

Riley seemed to relax, turning her gaze back to the ceiling.

"Ya weigh like a sack o' bricks, though," he teased, lying of course. She'd been practically weightless in his arms.

Riley scoffed, meekly hitting his knee and rolling her eyes.

Daryl smirked, his gaze rising so that he was looking out the window. He smile fell as he saw Andrea, Carol, and Glenn emerge from the woods, looking confused and scared as all get out. Daryl immediately rose to his feet- where were the others? Did they get attacked by a herd? He started down the hallway before hearing Riley call, "What's wrong?"

"Sum o' them are back. Stay there," he added as she started to try to sit up. She glared at him, but he ignored it, stepping out of the Winnebago to talk to the group.

Riley watched from inside the RV as Daryl approached. She felt her stomach twisting inside; where had everyone else gone? Surely they hadn't all died?

Daryl started to get worked up over something, shaking his head and stalking back and forth, like an angry wolf. She could hear his yells from in the vehicle: something about Lori riding away with someone she didn't even know?

The need to know was killing her. Where the hell was Lori, and why in the hell did she take off with a stranger? _Surely_ the woman had more common sense than that!

Riley gritted her teeth, slowly Easing herself into a sitting position. Her vision blurred for a second, but it came back into focus after a moment. She clutched onto the wall, leaning heavily against it as she stood. She waited until the dizziness had passed, ignoring the trembling in her legs and stumbling down the hallway. She used the counters as supports before finally throwing herself at the door. She leaned against the doorframe, turning her gaze down at the group.

"What's going on?" she demanded, her voice quiet and raspy.

Daryl's head snapped up at the sound of her voice, and he stormed over to her. "I _told_ ya to stay put!"

She tried not to flinch, closing her eyes as her brain rattled. "Don't yell. Just... Where is everybody?"

"Uh, Rick, Shane and Lori are with Carl," Glenn explained, eyes wide at the sight of the teetering woman. "He, uh, got shot."

Riley's eyes snapped open, and the shock made her lean forward. She lost her balance, one foot slipping out from underneath her body, making her crumple. Daryl and Dale just managed to grab her before she hit the ground. Dale let go, seeing as how Daryl was wrapping his arms (almost possessively) around the brunette.

She gritted her teeth, struggling against his grip. "I just fell," she protested angrily, furious that he would coddle her in front of everyone. It wasn't so bad when it was just him and her, but in front of the group? She pushed his arms away, feeling her legs start to sway. One of her hands reflexively shot out, clinging onto the nearest steady object- Daryl's arm.

What was more humiliating: falling and having Daryl carry her back into the RV, or leaning against him while she got some answers? She didn't like her options, but she had to know what was going on. She leaned against his arm in defeat, trying not to ogle at the muscles bulging under her hand.

"What happened?" Carol asked in her quiet surprise.

"Fell down a hill an' hit her head on a tree," Daryl answered bluntly.

Riley's cheeks flamed in indignation. I was trying to fight a walker, she thought defensively, unable to form the words.

"You should take her too, Glenn. She might have a concussion," Dale stated.

Take me where?! she wanted to scream. She turned her gaze on Dale, trying to convey her thoughts through just the look like she could do with Daryl and Simmie. Unfortunately, it didn't work.

"How many doctors are there?" Daryl questioned.

"Stop," Riley interrupted hoarsely. "What's _going on_? Start from the beginning."

She listened as they all explained to her everything they knew. Her anxiousness steadily got worse as they went on. She was supposed to go to a farm full of people, just HOPING that they wouldn't kill her? Everything she'd ever been taught told her that something was up.

"I'm...not going," she whispered to Daryl because she couldn't project her voice loud enough for everyone to hear her.

"There's a doctor, Riley."

"I'm not!" she exclaimed as firmly as she could.

He rolled his eyes. "Jus' go. I'll be there tomorrow."

"I'll be...dead by then." Standing up was really tiring her; she needed to lay down. What she really wanted was to go to sleep, for once.

"You'll be 'sleep 'fore ya get there. Go on," he said to Glenn, who helped T-Dog into the car. He got into the driver's seat, waiting as Daryl helped a weakly protesting Riley in the backseat. He laid her down, warning Glenn to drive carefully so she wouldn't fall.

"I...kill you," she mumbled before her eyes slid shut.

Daryl rolled his eyes. She might not have been capable of fluid speech, but he still understood the meaning of her threat.

* * *

For once, Simmie finally knew how Riley felt after staying up all night. She had TRIED to sleep, but with Carol's constant weeping (not that she could blame the poor woman), and having to sleep on the hard floor with her shoulders scraping each side of the RV when she was laying on her back, she found the task impossible.

No wonder Riley could be so cranky.

Oh, and there was the constant worry for her friend. Simmie felt so anxious that her mind was buzzing too much to let her sleep. Simmie was terrified; she'd never seen Riley so weak before. No, scratch that. She'd been much worse when Spencer had died.

But Simmie wasn't just worried about Riley. She was worried for Carl, and for Lori, and of course for Sophia, and for Carol.

Simmie was elated when Daryl finally announced that they were heading to the farm. All she could do was stare out the window as the countryside rolled peacefully by the window.

What seemed like hours later, they arrived at the farm. As soon as Simmie got out, she desperately tried to catch Lori's eye. They all waited, unconsciously holding their breath until Rick announced that Carl would be fine.

Simmie exhaled in relief, smiling at Lori. She stepped forward, hugging the haggard woman. "Thank God," Simmie whispered in her ear.

"No, thank Shane," she said, drawing Simmie's attention to the silent man standing near the house.

Simmie shot him a timid smile; he'd always managed to intimidate her. She crossed over to the elderly man (Hershel, he was the doctor). The worry that had gnawed away her sleep started to shine in her eyes, making itself known in the slight tremble of her voice. "How is she?"

"She's fine; just needs some rest is all," Hershel answered, making Simmie sigh in relief. "She's got a concussion. Beth can take you to her room."

He nodded to a young girl, maybe in her late teens, who timidly stepped up, smiling. "I'm Beth," she introduced as she headed for the house, Simmie right beside her.

"Simmie," the Indian woman answered.

They walked up a flight of stairs, slipping into the first door on the left. Simmie looked at the bed, almost not seeing the woman under the thick comforter. She stepped forward, feeling a frown flit across her face. Riley looked so vulnerable. Her face was almost as pale as the sheets, and she wasn't moving at all. The only sign of life was the continuous rise and fall of her chest.

"Is she going to be okay?" Simmie found herself asking. Her being so still was disconcerting; she normally fidgeted in her sleep.

"Yeah," Beth responded. "She just needs to sleep."

"She doesn't like to sleep," Simmie muttered, walking over to the other side of the bed. She grabbed a chair and scooted it over so that she was right next to the big piece of furniture, reaching forward and taking hold of her friend's hand. Riley didn't move.

"Why not?" Beth asked curiously, head tilted innocently to the side.

"She has nightmares. What's wrong with her?" she suddenly questioned, feeling distress blossom in her chest. She shook Riley's shoulder, only succeeding in making her head roll.

"She has a concuss- Oh, you mean why she's not waking up? We had to give her a sedative; she started fighting us."

Simmie's eyes grew wide. "Oh my God, did she hurt any of you?"

Beth shook her head. "Aside from a few bruises, no."

"When will she wake up?" Simmie asked nervously. If Riley was being sedated and was having nightmares... She would be trapped in that world. Riley never spoke about her nightmares; Simmie knew that she was just trying to protect her from the horrors that she'd lived through.

"'M not sure. We had to give her a horse sedative 'cause that's all we got, and, truthfully, your friend is super strong," she added. "Maybe by tonight; evening at the earliest."

Simmie exhaled in a mixture of worry/fear, tightening her grip on Riley's hand.

"She'll be fine," Beth drawled, blue eyes shining with innocence. "Like I said: she's strong."

Simmie couldn't take this. All the stress and worry for everyone. She needed Riley to lean on, to vent to, but Riley - her invincible Riley - was broken. Simmie had to be strong for her, but she didn't know how.

Riley was the one who was strong. How she survived protecting and worrying for Simmie and doing the same for the whole group, Simmie didn't know. She was crushing under the pressure.

She didn't realize she was crying until Beth sat next to her, wrapping her arms around Simmie's thin, shaking shoulders. Tears slid down her cheeks, and she leaned her head against Beth's throat. Beth stroked the woman's hair, trying to comfort her.

Simmie didn't know how long she sat there just crying with Beth. Beth tried her hardest to get her to stop, but once Simmie was on a tangent, there was no stopping her.

A young man stepped into the room, his face turning to one of surprise when he saw Beth and Simmie. He shot a questioning glance to Beth, who just answered with a helpless shrug.

"Uh, we're 'bout ta have Otis' funeral," he said.

Who was Otis? a distant part of Simmie's mind asked. Beth suddenly bowed her head, swallowing as she tried to fight back tears.

"C'mon," Beth finally offered nicely, squeezing the girl's shoulders. Simmie glanced doubtfully at Riley; what if she woke up while Simmie was gone? Beth reached down, gently taking Simmie's wrist. "She'll still be here when you get back."

Simmie caved in, following the couple out to the farm. There was no denying the beauty and tranquility of their new home; she could almost forget that the world had ended. She wiped at her cheeks, but it was still obvious to the group that she'd been crying. Lori walked over, draping her arm around the younger woman's shoulder. Simmie sniffled the whole time; though she hadn't met this man, she was still depressed by the memoirs his family left. She'd experienced too many funerals lately.

Simmie answered all of Lori's maternal questions ("Are you okay?" "How is Riley?" etc.) before being pulled into a swift hug. Lori wandered off, and Simmie was surprised to see Daryl stride right up to her. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure he was actually walking towards her.

"How is she?" he asked gruffly, fidgeting with his crossbow strap and glancing at Simmie.

"She'll, uh, be fine," the Indian answered warily. Daryl made her nervous, and she was scared to say too much or too little in case he became angry.

Obviously she had said something wrong, according to the flash of his eyes. "How is she _now_?" he corrected.

He was so much taller than Simmie; he towered over her five-foot-one frame. "She, uh, she's sleeping."

Daryl huffed in irritation. "Do I gotta spell it out fer ya? Tell me everythin' ya know."

Simmie tried not to step back; her brown doe eyes were already stretched wide in fear. A lump was quickly growing in her throat, and she wanted nothing more than to run back to Riley for protection from the haggard man. "T-They brought her back, and she had started fighting them, so they had to sedate her, and now she's asleep."

His brow furrowed. "Do ya know fer how long?"

"Beth said probably not until night; they had to give her a horse sedative."

Daryl's eyes snapped up to her, suddenly burning. "A _horse_ sedative?! That's dangerous!"

Simmie felt the color drain from her face. What if these people were trying to keep her under? What if they knew she was CIA and-

Stop, Simmie reprimanded herself fiercely. She couldn't think that way. She just couldn't, or she'd go insane. Riley was the one who didn't trust people. "She started fighting them. They didn't have much of a choice."

Daryl snorted angrily, brushing past her and walking away. "Where are you going?" Simmie called after him.

He didn't bother to turn around. "Goin' ta have a lil chat with tha 'doctor'," he sneered. Simmie frowned, hoping she didn't just get Hershel in trouble.

The rest of the day Simmie wouldn't move from Riley's side. She sat in the chair, brown eyes either fixed on the frozen woman or gazing thoughtfully out the window. The bedroom window was facing the side yard, and their camp was set up out front, so she didn't see much.

Simmie's skin crawled when she watched Riley for too long. Her friend looked dead; her face was bleached of any color, and she was still as a statue. She didn't even look real. The woman resembled a wax figurine more than anything. She even had her hands laid on her chest like she was in her tomb.

A few stragglers wandered in over the course of the day. Some came in to provide Simmie with the latest camp drama, while even fewer came in to check in on Riley. The stony woman hadn't exactly made too many friends; Glenn, T-Dog, and Rick were the only ones who came solely for Riley. Beth wandered up a few times to check on how the unconscious agent was doing, and Daryl had even come up once. Simmie wasn't blind to Riley's 'friendship' with the belligerent redneck, so, only for him, she left the room to give them some privacy. He'd only stayed up there long enough for Simmie to drink some water and exchange a polite conversation with Patricia. Lori (seeing as how Carl was just down the stairs), came up often to talk to Simmie.

Apparently, no one had gone out to look for Sophia. Rick was too weak from blood transfusions, Shane was injured, and Daryl...well, Daryl had no excuse, but Lori assumed it had something to do with Riley, considering how she'd caught him staring at the house a couple times. Shane had decided that they'd have gun training sometime soon (maybe tomorrow), and there'd been a walker in one of the wells. Lori didn't go into great detail about that event, and Simmie was grateful for that. Beth's sister Maggie and Glenn had gone on a run into the nearest pharmacy, nabbing some more medicine.

An inky blackness started to creep across the sky, chasing away the sun and replacing it with twinkling stars. Simmie started to unconsciously doze off in her chair even before the sun had set. Andrea had walked in, nudging her friend's shoulder. Simmie awoke with a start, sleepily following Andrea out of the house with the promise of a dinner.

Riley's eyes shot open with a panicked gasp. She stared at her surroundings in utter confusion; where was she?

She was laying in a bed in a small bedroom. She assumed it was a guest room from the family pictures scattered around the room and lack of anything that might suggest to an owner's gender.

Where the hell was she? And what was going on? Her head hurt a little, but it was hard to feel through the sleepy fog clouding her thoughts. It was also hard to see; her peripheral vision was annoyingly blurry.

Riley pushed the thick quilt off, a part of her wishing she could lay in the comfortable mattress, cocooned in her own heat. She swung her legs off the side of the bed, trying to remember all she could think of.

She'd apparently fallen down a hill and hit a tree (she still couldn't remember that), they'd gone back to camp, then some of their group had appeared saying that... Carl had been shot? Yeah, and they'd found some more people, one of them being a doctor. So was she at their...house?

She stood up, wincing and waiting for the dizzy spell. There wasn't one, except for a sharp sting of protest from the back of her head. Taking a deep breath, she crossed over to the door. She paused in the doorway, peering down the hall: the left was just a long passage that led to more rooms while the right revealed a flight of stairs.

Riley inwardly groaned; she was unsteady and extremely lethargic at the moment. Nonetheless, she grabbed onto the banister. Leaning heavily on it, she struggled down the stairs.

A young girl appeared at the bottom, green eyes wide. Her brown hair was chopped short, tucked behind each of her ears. She couldn't have been more then twenty-five.

"What are you doin'?" she questioned in a country twang. "You're 'sposed to be in bed."

Riley stared distrustfully at the young woman. She took a step forward, and Riley's hand immediately flickered down to her waist, fingers grasping an empty holster. She looked down, shocked to see her gun and knife gone. "Where're...my w...weapons?" she demanded.

The girl didn't have a chance to answer before Rick suddenly appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "Riley?" he questioned.

Riley relaxed a little. "What's going on?"

Rick beckoned her down, and she took a step before her knees buckled. She missed the last few steps, crumpling into Rick's arms with a loud thump as her feet dragged across the steps. She struggled to regain her footing, her vision spinning. She clung onto Rick's steady form for a second until the dizzy spell passed, pushing his arms away.

"What are you doin'?" An elderly man stepped into the living room, flocked by a young couple in their late teens and Lori.

Riley swayed unsteadily on her feet, trying to collect her thoughts. "What...happened?" she demanded slowly, brow furrowed in concentration. Lori turned around, walking briskly out the door.

"You shouldn't be able to walk," the old man said, stepping closer to the agent.

Riley took a quick step back, nearly collapsing again. Rick grabbed her elbow, supporting her as she stumbled over to the nearest wall, leaning against it. Rick released her but hovered nearby.

"You have a concussion, you really should by lying down," the unfamiliar brunette urged, taking a step.

Trapped! Riley's mind screamed at her. These people literally had her with her back against a wall, forming a semi circle that she couldn't escape from. Riley's pupils contracted, and her nostrils dilated as she tried to keep calm. She had no clue what was going on. Even with Rick and Glenn's familiar faces near her, she would still fight these people if she had to.

"Hey, back up," Rick ordered, holding out an arm and warning them to stop advancing on the slightly trembling woman. He knew that at any second she could panic and run away like a startled deer. The only difference is that Riley would cut down anybody in her path.

"Riley?!" Simmie's anxious voice called as she bounded into the house, Lori, Daryl, and T-Dog at her heels. Her eyes fell on the startled agent, and Simmie sighed in relief. The young Indian threw her arms around Riley.

She flinched, grabbing Simmie's arm and instinctively pushing Simmie behind her. Even in her haze of jumbled thoughts, she knew that protecting Simmie from these unknown people was her number one priority.

Though she could hardly stand on, Riley put a step between her and Simmie, clearly shielding the young woman. Her knees were shaking, and she had to squint to even see somewhat properly.

"Riley-" Simmie started to try and tell her friend that the people wouldn't hurt them. She was so used to Riley being the strong one, and her standing made Simmie forget for a second that she was hurt. She reached up, grabbing her arm, accidentally unsettling the woman.

Riley swayed unsteadily, making the group of people take an instinctive step forward to catch her. But she straightened up, holding her palms against her temples. "Somebody tell me what the _hell_ is going on!" she hissed through gritted teeth.

Multiple people answered at once, making her head pound. Riley was absolutely seething; she couldn't even yell at them to shut up! She just clenched her hands tighter, squeezing her eyes shut.

She didn't see Daryl slip through the crowd, stopping at her side. "'Bout time ya woke up, Sleepin' Beauty."

Riley's eyes snapped open, looking up at the man. The expression on his face could be taken as a rude sneer, but Riley knew it was a teasing smirk. She felt a smirk flit across her face as well: "I don't need a Prince Charming to wake me up," she said, secretly happy to see her so-called friend.

"Di'n' say ya did," he returned. "How ya feelin'?" he asked, dropping his voice so no one else-other than maybe Simmie, who was watching the two with a wide gaze-could hear.

Riley scowled. "I can't...think right." The harsh cacophony from the group was making small black dots appear at the sides of her visit.

"Yeah, that's prolly from the ketamine," Daryl responded with a snort. The crowd of people went silent, marveling at _Daryl Dixon_ and _Riley_ having a calm conversation.

Riley wasn't able enough to be shocked at the fact that Daryl knew what a horse sedative was. Her brow furrowed, and she turned to look at the group. "K-Ket-amine?" she stammered, feeling anger surge through her. They were trying to weaken her, to kill her. Her group wasn't safe.

She meant to snap the gun out of Daryl's waistband without him stopping her, but the drug was still in her system, making her movements sluggish. He easily grabbed her wrist, holding her hand away from both of them. Her body unsteadily followed her arm, and she collapsed.

"Whoa," Daryl said, easily catching her. He pulled her up, watching as her eyes rolled back before closing.

"Is she okay?!" Simmie demanded frantically, caramel eyes stretched wide in terror.

"Yeah," he answered, shifting the limp woman in his arms so that he was carrying her bridal-style. "Jus' passed ou'." He walked back up the stairs, being careful to not bang her feet against the walls.

Daryl laid her gently down on the bed. She looked like a rag doll; it was unsettling. Frowning, he pulled the covers up to her chin and angled her face to the side so that there wouldn't be as much pressure on the knot on the back of her head.

He made to leave, but he paused in the doorway. Just leaving felt wrong-out of everyone he was the only one she'd listened to. If she woke up again while he was gone, who knew what kind of chaos she'd stir up?

He could come up with excuses until he was blue in the face, but he knew that he didn't WANT to leave. He couldn't shake the look she'd given him in the RV when she'd asked him to stay. The vulnerability was so strange; he felt like he owed it to her to stay.

Daryl internally snorted. He didn't owe her a thing; what had she done for him other than fight with him? Sure, she was the only one who really talked to him, but she was annoying, stubborn, selfish...

Even as he thought like that, he found himself plopping down into the chair at her bedside. He propped his feet on the bed, folding his hands over his chest as he settled down. He'd only stay for a few minutes.

* * *

**I hope that didn't kill you all! Hahaha next one won't be so long, pinky promise! **

**Wow, good going Riley. You would fall down a hill in the middle of the zombie apocalypse.**

**And I find it hilarious that all of you hate Simmie. I thought for sure everybody would love Simmie and hate Riley hahaha XD**

**Thanks for all the favorites/follows/reviews!**

**Lahey: Bahahaha your replies always make me laugh! and I agree; Simmie needs to stay away from Andrea! Anybody else smell a cat fight? (;**

**Leyshla Gisel: Well thank you! (: That makes me feel much better about last chapter! I hope you like the Riley/Daryl-ness in this one. (;**

**OhWickedOne: No, not Simmie! Riley would probably kill you D: she's protective like that XD And awww thank you (:**


	13. Chapter 12

**Haha well this chapter is super long too! I promise next one won't be quite so long(:**

**I made a video for this story (and that's why the update took so long XD). The link is on my profile! Go watch it, and tell me what you think!**

**12**

**Concussions Are Meaningless**

* * *

Riley's eyes slowly opened. Light was streaming in through her bedroom window, and a pair of songbirds flew past, twittering happily. Oh, her bed was so comfortable; it always had been. And she felt so rested. A dreamy smile spread across her lips as she turned over onto her right shoulder.

It took her a second to notice the man next to her in the chair: head back, legs propped on the bed, eyes closed.

She jumped so violently in surprise the whole bed shuddered, which made him groggily snap his head up.

"Wha'...?" he muttered, glazed eyes focusing on the now wide-awake Riley.

She stared at him, eyes stretched wide in shock until the memories of the past few years fell back into place. With a depressed sigh, Riley rolled over onto her back.

She wasn't in her room back in Montana; she was in some guy's farm house in the backwoods of Georgia during the walker apocalypse.

She ran her hands over her face, frowning at the prick of pain in her upper arm. She rolled back the sleeve of the oversized t-shirt, staring at the minuscule puncture wound mixed amongst the dirt and grime on disbelief.

"They had ta sedate ya," Daryl drawled quietly, his voice low and gruff with sleep. "Ya started raisin' hell."

She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but she didn't know where to start. She just stared at the ceiling, mind buzzing quietly. She didn't remember anything past getting in Glenn's car.

Finally, Riley formed a single word on her lips, the question that meant more than anything to her at the moment: "Simmie?"

"Fine. Scared ta hell 'cause o' ya, but she's fine."

Riley let out a small breath of relief, which turned into a grim, tight chuckle. "I don't remember anything since I got here."

"Ya have a concussion," Daryl explained, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forwards. Riley looked at him, her green eyes peering into his honest blue ones. And, for once, Daryl didn't look away. He didn't shy from her glance. "We're on Hershel's farm now. Hershel's the doctor," he elaborated, seeing her confused expression. "Carl go' shot, bu' he's doin' fine now."

"Sophia...?" Riley asked. Daryl finally looked away, and Riley sighed. The silence ensued for a few minutes before Riley's stomach gave a massive growl.

She clapped her hand over the loud offender, eyes stretched wide in surprise. "Was that me?" Daryl just smirked, nodding, and she smiled. "Well, I guess that's not surprising after not eating for a few days."

"Can ya walk?" Daryl questioned.

Riley shot him a glare. "I'm not an invalid, Daryl Dixon. Don't you dare treat me like one."

He smirked. This was the Riley he knew; the smart-mouth, independent, off-standish woman, not the weak, quiet, vulnerable girl he'd seen last night. The color was back in her face, and she was finally capable of speech.

She slid out of the bed, standing cautiously and waiting for a dizzy spell. When none came, she shot him a proud smirk. "You coming?"

He rose to his feet, following her out the door. He walked beside her on the stairs, hands ready to catch her. Her brow was furrowed in concentration but, other than a little swaying at the bottom, she had no troubles.

They walked into the kitchen, greeted by the most wonderful smell of cooking eggs. Patricia and Beth looked up, their expressions turning to shock when they saw who it was.

"She's awake?"

"You really should be in bed."

"You've got a concussion, you need to be layin' down!"

Riley squeezed her eyes shut, jaw clenching. Obviously, being instantly hammered by loud voices wasn't helping the headache. "I can handle it," she muttered, plopping down in one of the chairs around the table. She dropped her head in her hands, massaging her temples. Daryl stood wordlessly beside her.

"I'm Beth," Riley heard a feminine voice say. She opened her eyes and saw a young blonde on the other side of the table, offering a shy smile. The way she timidly glanced at the agent instantly made Riley think of Simmie.

"Riley," she returned.

Beth nodded, as if waiting for Riley to say something else. When Riley didn't, the silence became awkward.

"Well, you've got a concussion, so you really should take it easy for the next couple days," she said, obviously trying to be nice.

Riley felt a little sympathetic for the girl; she _was_ trying to have a conversation with Riley, of all people. It was almost as bad as trying to talk with Daryl. "Thank you," she stated as Patricia swept through the room, dropping a plate in front of Riley before leaving with Beth.

Riley and Daryl watched them disappear in the house. "Guess I scared them away," Riley quipped, glancing up at the redneck beside her before turning to her plate. Her stomach growled, and she wasted no time digging into the meager scoop of eggs. She had scarfed down two bites before remembering that she wasn't alone. She glanced guiltily up at Daryl, who was staring at the opposite wall, and pushed the plate in front of him.

"You can have the rest," she offered, glancing up at his surprised gaze.

He shook his head, nudging the plate back over to her. "Don' wan' it."

Riley resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she moved it back in front of him. "Just humor me and eat it."

"No," he shot back stubbornly, prodding the plate over to her. "Ya've got a concussion."

"So?" she snorted, rolling her eyes for real and shoving it at him. "Eat!"

"Ya need to get your strength back," Daryl quipped, amused at how annoyed she was getting. He pushed the plate back towards her, but she blocked it with her hands, pushing against him.

"I'm not gonna eat anymore, so you might as well!"

"Oh, ya're gunna eat it," he returned matter-of-factly.

Riley looked up at him with a 'really now?' expression, eyebrows raised challengingly.

Daryl scooped a little of the eggs on the fork, moving it towards her mouth. She immediately clamped her lips shut, expecting for him to stop.

What she didn't expect, however, was Daryl sticking the tines through her mouth, making eggs smear all over her mouth and chin. She shoved his arm away, eyes wide. "Daryl, what the-"

He cut her off by sticking a fork-full of eggs into her mouth. She leapt to her feet, choking on the food and glaring at him with huge eyes. He smirked, thoroughly amused by her reaction.

"Wha's you' pro'lem?" she exclaimed around her mouthful.

Daryl could tell that her lips were just dying to curve upwards into a smile. "Ya shouldn't talk with yer mouth full," he sneered. "'S rude."

Her eyebrows shot up, and her eyes got even wider. She swallowed, and her jaw dropped. "Not even!"

"Ya got a lil sumethin' righ' there," he teased, pointing a finger at his cheek, meaning the eggs around her mouth.

"Oh really?" she demanded, scooping up some of the eggs in her hand. He squeezed his eyes shut as she smeared the sticky food all over his face. When he opened them again, she was smirking evilly up at him, her emerald eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Oh yeah?" Riley realized what he was about to do a second too late as he wrapped his arms around her waist, hoisting her over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" she shrieked, laughing and pushing at his shoulder. "Daryl!" He strolled along, ignoring her kicking legs as he walked proudly out of the house.

Riley stopped fighting, just letting her arms and hair hang. She caught sight of people through her hair and raised her head, grinning at the shocked stares they were getting. Riley gave a friendly wave to the crowd and couldn't hold back the giggles at their expressions.

"Put me down," she wailed happily, gripping onto his vest. "Where are we going?"

The world spun as she was suddenly placed on the ground. She looked up at his face, feeling her stomach tighten at his sparkling blue eyes. His hands were on her waist as she grabbed onto his arms to stay herself.

A blush dusted her cheeks at their closeness, and she looked down, her smile getting even bigger. "I hate you," she said, glancing back up at him.

"Hate ya more," he retorted, letting go of her waist and leaning back a little. She rubbed her face, wiping away the egg remnants. He used his shirt to clean his own face, and Riley found her gaze lingering on his exposed torso.

"Waste of sum eggs," he stated.

Riley shot him a playful smirk, putting her hands on her hips. "I beg to differ."

He dropped his shirt, a smirk/grin spreading across his face. He took a threatening step forward, and she quickly moved backwards. Daryl chuckled. "Uh-huh. Tha's wha' I thought."

She grinned, her clear green eyes shining as she stared at him. He quickly became uncomfortable under her gaze, shuffling awkwardly. "Wha'?" he asked.

Riley just shook her head, pressing her lips together but still smiling. "Nothing."

"Riley!"

Their little world shattered, and Riley felt her heart give a little squeeze as Simmie came running up, making Daryl step back.

The Indian woman gave her friend a gentle hug, leaning back and holding her by the arms. "Are you okay? How do you feel? You need to lay down. God, Riley, I was so worried!" Simmie hugged her again.

"I'm fine, Simmie," Riley responded, touched by her friend's concern. She was released from the tight hug. "A little tree can't kill me."

"Don't be so stupid next time!" Simmie exclaimed teasingly

Riley's eyebrows shot up. "Stupid? Are you forgetting the part where I saved your life?" Both girls smiled at each other before they heard a loud bark.

Simmie stepped back just as a massive German shepherd jumped on Riley, nearly knocking her over. Sky's paws settled on her shoulders as her pink tongue smeared across her face. Riley chuckled, rubbing the dog's neck and kissing her snout. Sky yipped happily, jumping down and running around her owner's legs in excitement.

Riley's gaze rose, and she saw Daryl walking off towards the woods, crossbow slung over his shoulder. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she stepped around Simmie.

"Hey!" she called, making Daryl slow and glance over his shoulder. She started after him, commanding for Sky to stay. Daryl kept walking, and Riley picked up the pace, not quite ready to run. "Hey, Daryl!"

He finally stopped, turning and looking at her.

"Where are you going?" Riley asked.

"Ta look fer Sophia," he responded.

"By yourself?" Riley demanded. He nodded, and she frowned. "You need to go with somebody."

Daryl stubbornly shook his head. "Don' need nobody." He turned and started walking away.

"Wha- Daryl, stop!" She stepped forward and grabbed his arm, not missing his flinch before he pulled his arm away. "Seriously, Daryl, what if something happens?"

"I can take care o' myself."

Riley huffed in frustration. "Stop it! I'm _serious_ Daryl. So many things could go wrong."

"Tha' lil girl could be runnin' from walkers right now," he shot back. "She needs someone to find her, and I don' see anybody else tryin'!"

"I know, Daryl. Take someone with you or just wait one more day and I'll go with you!" He scoffed, shaking his head and looking away. She reached forward and gently grabbed his arm again. He turned his blue eyes back on her, quickly covering his surprise with wariness. "Please. She'll be fine 'till tomorrow."

He stared at her, and she stolidly met his gaze. He finally sighed. "Too damn annoyin'," he muttered under his breath.

She felt a small smile flit across her face as she relaxed, relieved. "I've heard worse."

Honestly, she wasn't sure why she'd been so worried. She knew that Daryl was her friend and that she cared about him, but she'd always been fine with him running off before. Maybe it was because he was alone? No; that definitely made her nervous, but that wasn't the total reason.

"So what now?" Riley asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "Whaddaya mean 'what now'?"

"I mean _what now_? What are we gonna do?"

"Ya're goin' straight back to bed. An' don' even try to argue," he stated, seeing Riley's indignant expression. "If I haveta stay, you haveta rest."

Riley glared at him. "And how do I know you won't run off as soon as I lay down?"

He rolled his eyes. "I won't, okay? C'mon, 'fore I carry you again."

She reluctantly fell into step beside him as they walked back to the house. Riley started to get a little woozy on the stairs, and Daryl had to support her while they made it up the last few steps. She sat down on the bed, propping up the pillows and sitting upright against the headboard.

Daryl made to leave, but she halted him saying, "Uh- Where do you think you're going?" He turned and looked at her, and she shook her head, pointing at the chair beside the bed. "I have to make sure you don't sneak away." Daryl sighed, muttering something under his breath but obliging to her command.

She started questioning him about the camp and their going-on's, smiling and frowning at the appropriate times. Their conversation quickly turned to Daryl and his plan for finding Sophia. He became uncomfortable with being the focus of their talking, changing the subject. They started talking about trivial things, arguments often intertwining the discussion.

Riley realized why she didn't want him to run off as she watched a smirk spread across his face. If she got suspicious about something happening, she wouldn't be able to chase after him. She'd be stuck in the house with only hope. Riley wasn't one to sit around and hope for things to happen; she had to do them herself. She was also worried that she'd be the only one who would want to look.

If he got hurt and she couldn't go after him, who would?

* * *

Glenn had come in a little later, inquiring if Daryl was going to go look. Daryl had been tempted to go -had even stood up- before Riley shot him a furious glare and sent Glenn away with a few mild threats. Simmie came up a few times, and Beth visited once or twice to check up on Riley's wound.

Towards the beginning of the afternoon, they both started to get cabin fever. They headed out to stroll around the farm, and almost immediately, Riley spotted the stables.

"Oh my God, do they have horses?!" she demanded, a grin splitting her face as she walked as fast as she could towards the low barn. She walked in and was hit with the strong odor and sounds of horses neighing. A grin split across her face as she looked at Daryl.

"No way," he denied immediately, knowing exactly what she was about to say.

"Come on," she pleaded, walking over and opening one of the stalls. The small chestnut inside eyed her with wide, brown eyes. She stepped closer towards it, and it gave a nervous snort, prancing away and tossing its head.

"Sh, come here sweetheart," she cooed comfortingly, holding out a hand. The horse warily knocked its muzzle against her fingers, sniffing her cautiously. She smiled as it pressed its face against her hand.

"Riley, c'mon, last thing ya need is ta fall off a horse," Daryl complained.

Riley grabbed a fistful of the mare's brown mane, hoisting herself onto the slender back. She pressed her heels into the horses side, maunuvering the beast out and into the hallway. "I don't plan on falling off."

Daryl huffed. "At least get a sadle."

She winked at him. "Don't need one." She kicked her heels into the horse's side, making the gorgeous animal whinny and take off out of the barn.

Riley clung onto the mane, grinning as the horse tossed her head in joy, galloping across the farm. Riley gave her total rein, concentrating on just holding on. Her dark brown hair painfully whipped against her skin, and the air blowing into her face made her eyes water, but her lips formed a huge grin.

They wheeled around a big oak tree, and Riley tugged back on the hair, slowing to a canter as Daryl rode up on a big, gray stallion.

"Wanna race?" she challenged.

"Naw."

"First one to that barn wins!" she shouted, digging her heels into the horse's side.

The horse seemed as happy as Riley was to be out, stretching her legs. She ate up the ground, ears back, head stretched out, and tail streaming behind her like a golden banner. Riley leaned forward, crouching over the horse's neck and ignoring the mane that smacked her face.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the dappled stallion quickly gaining ground behind her. She grinned, squeezing her smaller mare's flanks tighter, urging her to speed up. The horse listened, widening her gait even more.

The horses flew by the barn, neck-in-neck. Riley sat up, pulling back on the mane and wheeling around in a big circle. The horse slowed to a trot, clopping her hooves over to Daryl on his stallion.

"I won!" Riley called proudly.

Daryl urged his horse into step beside hers, the two moving at a steady walk as their flanks quivered from the exertion. "It was a tie."

"Uh-huh, keep thinking that," Riley quipped, shooting him a smirk.

"Where'd ya learn ta ride? I figured-"

"Since I was CIA, I was all caviar and expensive lamborghinis," Riley finished for him in a teasing, mock-socialite voice. He nodded. "I grew up in Montana. We get horses for our sixteenth birthdays instead of cars."

Daryl nodded again, spotting Rick. He turned his horse towards the police officer, and Riley followed.

"Hey, you two," Rick greeted, offering Riley a smile.

"Hey, chief. How's Carl doing?" she asked, pulling her horse to a halt.

Rick stepped closer, running a hand over the mare's chestnut neck. "Better, thanks. And you?"

"I feel fine," she answered, not completely untruthfully. The back of her head dully throbbed, and she was a little dizzy, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle.

"Fine enough to go searchin' tomorrow? We've got a base; we can organize this and do it right."

Riley nodded. "Of course. I could go out right now and scout around for landmarks and stuff- get a rough lay of the land."

"I'll go with ya," Daryl added.

"I'd appreciate it. But be careful, it'll be dark soon."

"Yes sir," she quipped, squeezing the horse's sides. Rick gave it a hard slap on the flank, making it whinny and merge to a canter. Daryl followed closely behind, and the two slowed to a trot through the forest. They pointed out various noticeable objects, Riley conjuring a mental map of the area. They were walking in a wide circle around the house, Daryl keeping a sharp eye out for walkers. Riley seemed to be as at ease as he'd ever seen, which was odd for the normally tense agent. Especially considering the fact that she was wounded, unarmed, and an easy target for any stray geeks in the area.

Riley didn't worry about the walkers until, all of a sudden, her horse gave out a high-pitched neigh, rearing up on her hind legs. Riley clung desperately onto the mane as the horse lashed out at the approaching walker with her hooves.

Daryl quickly dispatched the corpse with an arrow, but that did nothing to calm down the beast. It landed roughly on its legs, taking off into the underbrush. Riley could do nothing except hang on as tight as she could and duck out of the way of large tree limbs. Small branches grabbed at her skin and hair, making pricks of pain run up and down her body.

The horse didn't stop until a few minutes later when they had reached a large clearing. The mare tossed her head, eyes wide enough to show the whites around her eyes. Riley shushed the animal, rubbing its neck in an effort to calm her down.

Daryl galloped into the clearing, his horse much calmer but tired. "Goddamm horse," he cursed at the chestnut mare.

"It's not her fault," Riley defended, eyes straying to the left and realizing the house next to them.

"Then whose is it?" Daryl sneered. "Good fer nuthin'...good glue," she heard him mutter.

"Stop," she demanded, distracted by her discovery. "Look at that." She started to dismount, but Daryl stopped her, handing her the reins to his dappled stallion.

"I'll go; stay here," he demanded, glaring at her with a serious, I'm-not-kidding look. She huffed but took the reins, moving closer to the house and watching as Daryl snuck in. If she wasn't injured and nobody had to watch the horses, she'd go after him.

A few minutes later he emerged, looking perplexed.

"What is it?" she asked as he walked closer.

"Found a pallet in a pantry."

"It could've been anybody," Riley returned.

"Yeah, but they'd haveta be this tall," he said, holding his hand up at about the size of a child. His gaze landed on something behind her, and he started walking towards it.

"So, it's either a midget or Sophia. I like those odds." She twisted around, watching him pluck off a white flower from a bush and mount his horse. "Whose the flower for?" she asked teasingly, smirking as he mounted his horse.

"Carol," he answered distractedly, staring thoughtfully at the plant.

Riley's smirk suddenly slipped off her face, and she felt her stomach give an odd little twist. Her heart skipped in her chest, and she turned her morose gaze between her horse's ears, pressing her heels against its side. "Oh," was all she said.

Daryl realized what he had just said sounded like, and his mouth made a little 'o' in surprise. "We're not- I'm not-" he struggled to explain.

"I get it," she retorted curtly, cutting off his response. An awkward silence quickly settled between him as his horse fell into step with hers. She didn't even know why she was so suddenly angry and sad. She had no reason to be, unless...

No. She wasn't jealous. Not over _Daryl_. They weren't dating; they were hardly even friends. If he wanted to be with Carol, he could be. Sweet, gentle Carol, who couldn't harm a fly. He liked damsel-in-distress girls, then? Well, he'd be damned if she ever became one of those. He could just go on and run off in the sunset with Carol- oh, he could carry her too. Yep, because she wouldn't be able to walk on her own. She'd watch him kill himself trying to protect her, because she can't fight like Riley. While she'd been sedated in a bed, surrounded by strangers who could've been serial killers for all they knew, he was out picking flowers for his new girlfriend. She was older than him for God's sake! Her hair was _gray_. But, hey, maybe he had a thing for grandmas.

They finally made it back to the stables. The sun was just starting to set, casting a orange glow on everything. Riley's hair glowed in the golden light, and her furious, emerald eyes looked translucent. She slid angrily off her horse, pulling out a brush and yanking it over the mare's coat.

Daryl dismounted as well, slipping the bridle off his stallion's head. The horse smacked its lips together, happy to be free of the bit. He watched Riley's violent brush-down; she was seething. She led her horse into its stall, turning on her heel and meaning to stalk away.

"Hey," Daryl called after her. "Will ya help me with this?" He could perfectly handle taking off the saddle by himself, but he felt odd about just letting her walk away and still be angry. He wasn't even sure why she was mad, and he knew that later he wouldn't be able to just walk up to her and talk about it. He needed the air to be clear right then, because he couldn't fix it later.

She paused for a moment; her slender body silhouetted by the sun shining through the opposite end of the stables. She finally turned around and walked up to his horse, untying the girdle. He lifted the saddle with a grunt, hanging it with the other saddles.

She grabbed the curry comb, swiping it in harsh circular movements across the horse's flank.

"Ya don' haveta hurt 'im," Daryl pointed out, feeling sympathetic towards the beast.

"I'm not!" she protested, but he noticed that her swipes were much gentler.

Daryl cleared is throat, grabbing a hard-bristled brush and rubbing it against the gray neck. He kept his eyes trained on the neck. "Me and Carol-"

"Are none of my business," she cut him off brusquely. "You don't have to explain it to me."

"No, I do haveta because ya're mad 'bout sumethin', an' I'm pretty sure it ain't got nuthin' ta do with me beatin' ya in tha race."

Her cheeks flamed, and she kept her gaze locked on the dappled flank. "I'm not mad," she mumbled.

"'Cause ya always walk around lookin' like ya wanna kill somebody," he sneered with a sarcastic snort.

"I just... I didn't know about you two. It was a surprise is all," she claimed innocently.

"There is nuthin'!" Daryl exclaimed. "It's jus' a goddamn flower!" She shot him a patronizing look, and he huffed, walking around to her side of the horse and pulling out the flower from his pocket. "Do ya know wha' this is?" With the shake of her head, he continued, "It's a Cherokee rose." He launched into the story, keeping his eyes glued on the flower. When he glanced up, he was surprised to see her green eyes were glossy. As soon as he met her gaze, she turned and looked at the horse, shielding her face with her hair.

Were there any roses for her sister? Spencer definitely deserved one; she deserved a whole bush.

"That's..." Riley started, her voice weak. She swallowed the lump in her throat, daring to peek at him. "That's nice, Daryl."

"I think there's one out there fer your sister," he added, staring at her. When she looked at him, he met her gaze instead of looking away like he normally did. "Somewhere. Wha' was her name again?"

Riley swallowed again, blinking faster than usual to try and fight the pricking in the corner of her eyes. "Spencer," she muttered.

Daryl's lips turned up into a tiny smile- an actual smile, not a smirk- and he nodded. "Yeah. Spencer has one."

Riley turned her gaze to the ground, biting her trembling lip. She squeezed her eyes shut, reaching up and pinching the bridge of her nose. She felt like she was going to start crying. But then the sudden urge to throw her arms around Daryl hit her, and she found herself looking up at him in surprise, wondering if he had felt the same thing. He was still staring at her with his piercing blue gaze, and she felt the urge grow even stronger. "Thank you," she whispered, trying to regain control of herself.

Daryl, the no-touchy, keep-your-distance, socially-awkward redneck, slowly reached out and comfortingly grabbed her shoulder. That was all it took for Riley to slip her arms around his waist, burying her face in his shirt. He tensed for a second, before hesitantly hugging her back. He pressed his face against her hair, breathing in deeply.

She wanted nothing more than to just let go; to cry and scream at the wind for taking the things that mattered most to her, like she did in the early days. Like she did in Washington, where she was racked with pain and haunted by the ghosts of all the people she'd killed. She felt her arms tighten around Daryl's torso.

But she couldn't: not now, not ever. She had to hold all the grief inside and ignore all the despair she was surrounded with. She had to be strong for Simmie, and for the group. She could hear her mom's voice in her head exasperatedly saying, "Riley, _honey_, you have _got_ to talk about these things. Keep it all bottled up, and you'll eventually explode!"

Riley pulled her arms away from Daryl, embarrassed at the second of weakness she'd shown. She quickly turned around, muttering a quick apology before slipping a halter on the horse. She led him around the slightly stunned Daryl, placing him in his stall.

Without looking back, she strode away, running a hand through her hair. She crossed the front yard, entering the little area where their group had set up camp. Sky bounded up to Riley, wagging her tail and pushing against her legs.

"Have fun out there, Annie Oakley?" T-Dog teased.

Riley rolled her eyes, shooting him a mock glare as she continued through the camp.

"Yeah with her Frank Butler!" Glenn mocked.

Riley raised her eyebrows, folding her arms and stopping. "You wanna test my shooting skills?"

Glenn just smirked. "With what gun?"

She furrowed her brow, grappling at her holster. Had she dropped it? No way; she was more responsible with her weapons than that. Her hand quickly dropped to her left thigh, finding that her dagger was gone as well. Feeling panic flare up (where would she get more weapons?!), she yanked off her shoes, jumping up and down on one foot at a time as she shook them out. _Nothing_.

"Where are my weapons?!" she cried in distress, patting her legs and waist, just in case they had magically appeared.

Rick strode into camp right on cue. "We took 'em."

Her head snapped up, and rage flashed in her eyes. "_What_?" she snarled.

"Hershel doesn't want us to walk around with guns; we all had to give ours up," he added, holding a hand up to try and calm the quickly angering woman.

Riley stepped up to Rick. "Rick," she said lowly. "I know how to hide a gun; my life has depended on it before."

"This is their land. They make the rules."

Riley huffed in irritation. "Fine. But I want to know where it is, at least."

"Dale has 'em all," Rick answered. He was glad that Riley didn't put up too much of a fight against him.

Find Dale, Riley inwardly added at the top of her To-Do list. "And my knives?"

"Right here." Rick ducked into the smaller tent that he shared with Lori and Carl, quickly re-emerging with a bundle wrapped with a towel. He dropped it on the ground, unrolling it and revealing the seven blades.

Glenn's eyes grew huge, and T whistled in appreciation. "Where do you hide all of them?" Glenn asked.

Riley felt a little uncomfortable with them all knowing where she had (almost all) of her weapons, but she would have to get over it. After all, they were kind of a family.

Kind of.

Daryl walked into camp as Riley strapped a sheath to her left thigh, sticking a thigh-length dagger into the space. She dropped to her left knee, rolling up her right pants leg and strapping on another, slightly smaller one to the side of her right shin. She stuck two knives into her left boot and three more into her right boot.

She stood up again, thanking Rick before turning and heading away. Daryl followed her path, seeing Simmie and Andrea at the end of it. She passed Glenn, who was still wide-eyed.

Riley smirked, patting his back. "You haven't even seen half of them," she teased. His eyes grew even huger, and she smiled. It was a lie, of course, she only had two more knives stuck under her arms in her sports bra. But they were a last-resort sort of thing.

"Hey, Simmie," Riley greeted, glancing at Andrea but choosing to ignore her.

Simmie gave the older woman a weak smile. "Hey. It's laundry day, you know."

Riley didn't know. "I'll change in a second." Simmie handed a folded shirt to Andrea, who shot Simmie a glare, and Simmie's smile quickly fell. Her eyes dropped to the clothes she was folding.

Riley's eyes narrowed, and she instantly became suspicious. "Simmie, you wanna show me where our tent is?"

Simmie pointed to a small, ugly, green tent that was close to the middle of camp.

"I meant, do you want to come with me?" Her tone was thick with an underlying message that, by the way Simmie's shoulders stiffened and her hands stilled, Simmie clearly understood.

"No, I'll just stay here," Simmie answered in a very timid and quiet voice that was unlike the usual way she addressed Riley.

Riley'd had enough of this. "Are you saying that, or is Andrea?" She turned her penetrating glare on the woman, who met it with equal force.

Andrea cocked her head, a fake smile flickering across her face. "Simmie doesn't want to be around you."

Riley's eyebrows shot up. Conscious of everyone watching them, she looked at her best friend. "Just say the word, and I'm gone." Simmie didn't respond, staring nervously at the ground. Riley turned back to Andrea. "Right. She doesn't need you to speak for her. She doesn't need you putting your depressed little thoughts into her head."

Andrea stood up, trying to intimidate the agent. If Riley wasn't so angry, she could've laughed; this little girl didn't scare her in the slightest. "I'm just pointing out the things that she should've been able to see by herself."

"And what's that?" Riley threatened, daring the blonde to answer. The rest of the camp watched in shock and apprehension, visibly seeing the tension rolling off the two like waves.

"You're manipulative, controlling, dangerous... Pretty much a self-obsessed sociopath with no feelings for anyone but herself."

The corner of Riley's lips twisted up into a smirk. She wanted nothing more than to make Andrea regret ever looking at Simmie, but she knew that wouldn't help anything.

"Come on, Simmie. Let's go." Riley reached around Andrea to take Simmie's arm. She had to talk to Simmie; instill some _sense_ into the delusional woman's brain.

Andrea roughly snatched Riley's arm, holding Riley from touching Simmie. Her blue eyes were inches from Riley's. "Don't _ever_ touch her, bitch," Andrea hissed.

Everyone saw it coming one second too late. Riley's gaze had collided with Andrea's for a millisecond before her fist went sailing into her face. Andrea's neck snapped back, and she stumbled away, clutching a bleeding nose. Riley stalked after her, swinging her foot around and tripping her. Andrea slammed into the ground, and Riley leaned over her, grabbing a fistful of her shirt and pulling her up.

"Listen close, because I'll only say this once," Riley spat venomously. "I don't have time to deal with your high-school drama shit. Stay away from me, and, while you're at it, stay away from Simmie too. Don't _ever_ touch me, bitch," she threatened, repeating Andrea's previous words. Riley let her go, turning her furious gaze on Simmie. "I need to talk to you."

Simmie's eyes were huge and her skin was pale. She nodded faintly, and Riley stepped around Andrea, grabbing Simmie's hand and pulling her away from the camp. Ignoring the shocked gazes around her, Riley didn't stop walking until they had reached the stables.

Riley had calmed down a little; the scared look on Simmie's face made her sober up real quick. Adrenaline was still pumping through her veins, but she was swiftly calming down. "They have horses, ya know," Riley said gently.

Simmie nodded, looking down at the ground. Riley crossed over to a black stallion, stroking his blaze.

"Tell me."

"Tell you what?" Simmie questioned nervously. She knew exactly what Riley wanted to hear.

"God, Simmie, we're best friends!" Riley suddenly exclaimed. "You used to tell me everything, but ever since the CDC..." Riley trailed off, shaking her head. "What are you mad at me for?"

"You _made_ me leave. I can't make it in this world, we both know that. I'm doomed eventually."

Riley's gaze snapped up. "Don't say that, Simmie. I promised you I would keep you alive."

"You can't promise that!" Simmie cried, feeling tears rise in her eyes. "I wanted a painless death, Riley."

"You want a painless death? I'll shoot you right now! Will that make up for me _saving_ _your_ _life_?"

"You took away my choice!"

"What choice is that?!" Riley demanded. "You wanted to commit _suicide_! Do you hear how that sounds?!"

"I'd rather kill myself than be eaten, Riley!" Simmie screeched. "Why don't you understand?!"

"I understand, Simmie! If it wasn't for you, I'd have killed myself a _long_ time ago. _You_ kept me alive. _You_ kept me going. At the very least I owe you for that."

Simmie felt like she'd been slapped. "That's why you're hanging around me? Because you owe me?!"

Riley shook her head, stepping away from the horse. She took both of Simmie's hands in hers, staring down into the brown eyes and inwardly begging her to listen. "No, Simmie. I love you, and that's why I'm hanging around you. I don't have anybody else, Simmie-" She suddenly broke off, looking down at their hands. "Why would you leave me alone?" she asked, her voice soft and uncharacteristically vulnerable.

Simmie's heart clenched, and she felt a lump appear in her throat. _How_ could she have been so selfish? To leave Riley, her best friend, completely alone in this new world where she had no other friends. Riley had always been there for her; Riley'd even told her that Simmie was the only reason she was still fighting. Ever since Spencer, Riley had changed so much. Simmie was literally the only thing Riley had left, and Simmie hadn't even been thinking about what her death would do to Riley.

"I'm so sorry," Simmie whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I didn't think... I'm sorry, Riley, I really am."

Riley suddenly pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, and Simmie squeezed back just as hard. When Riley finally leaned away, she shot the girl an anxious smile. "Are we okay?"

Simmie nodded, and the girls shared mirrored grins. Simmie hooked her arm with Riley's as the two headed back towards camp as the sun dipped under the horizon. A few stars were out and twinkling in the darkening light.

"Tomorrow, you and I are going riding," Riley stated.

Simmie nodded. "Definitely. So how have you been?"

"Well, other than the concussion, I'm fine."

"I see you and Daryl have been getting really close," Simmie teased, poking her elbow into the woman's side. "What's going on there?"

Riley rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the smile that landed on her face. "Nothing, Simmie, we're just friends."

"It's the end of the world, for God's sake! Don't be afraid to get some ass!" Simmie exclaimed.

Riley's eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. "Simmie!" she scolded, slapping her shoulder, but she was laughing loudly. Simmie joined in, leaning her head against Riley's shoulder.

"I hate you," Riley stated.

"As if," Simmie quipped, sticking out her tongue at the older woman. Riley stuck her tongue out right back. It felt great to just be with Simmie and let go of everything. God, Riley'd missed her friend. "But seriously-" Simmie pressed.

"Seriously nothing." Riley lowered her voice as they got closer to camp. "I mean, he's not that bad-looking and all, but it's not like that."

Simmie shot her a skeptical look like she didn't believe Riley, unhooking her arm. Lori met them halfway, handing them both paper plates with a meager portion of food. Riley didn't miss the scowl the older woman sent her before turning around.

"Lori's mad because I beat up Andrea," Riley muttered, sitting cross-legged on the ground.

Simmie sank down beside her, digging into the beans. "That was a little much..."

Riley snorted. "Was not. Bitch deserved everything she got." Riley's eyes drifted over to where Andrea was sitting by herself, a bandaid snug against her nose.

"She lost her sister, Riley," Simmie said softly, meeting her hard green gaze with a soft brown one.

Riley's heart sank, and she might have felt a tiny twinge of sympathy for her. The picture nestled in her back pocket seemed to gain a hundred pounds, and Riley frowned. Despite that, Andrea still shouldn't have tried to drag Simmie down into her suicidal spiral.

Riley caught sight of Daryl taking a plate from Lori. He turned around, eyes quickly raking the camp for a spot to sit. Riley caught his gaze, and she shot him a small smile, tilting her head back and gesturing for him to come here.

He obliged, and she patted the ground next to her. She was extremely aware of Simmie's wide-eyed stare on the other side of her as he sat down without a fuss, but Riley ignored it.

"Have you talked to Carol yet?" Riley asked lowly.

Daryl nodded, scooping a few beans into his mouth. "Started cryin'."

"I'm sure she appreciated it," Riley said. Daryl kept his gaze stolidly on his plate. Riley looked back at Simmie, who was struggling to contain a smile. Riley rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut _up_ Simmie."

Simmie burst out laughing, and Riley couldn't help the grin that appeared on her face. It was wonderful to see Simmie actually happy again. Riley took Simmie's plate, moving all the contents from Riley's plate to Simmie's. She handed the fuller plate back to Simmie, who frowned. "But won't you be-"

"Naw," Riley lied, waving a hand. She was starving, but Simmie didn't need to know that. "I ate some eggs this morning. Well- I ate _one_ egg. I got to wear the rest." Riley sent Daryl a pointed glance.

He just smirked. "Ya asked fer it."

"Mhmm, you keep thinking that." Riley smiled, trying to ignore the qualms of hunger from her stomach.

Daryl held out his plate in front of her, offering the last bit of his meal. Riley looked up at him in surprise, and he just nodded for her to take it. She shook her head. "I'm fine."

Daryl sighed, shrugging. "Suit yerself." He ate the rest, and Riley looked over happily to see that Simmie had finished as well.

Shane started a low fire, and Riley nodded when he caught her gaze. "What happened to your curls, Goldilocks?" she teased.

He shrugged, his frown not moving like it normally would have. "Wanted a change," he offered over his shoulder, walking away.

Riley's brow furrowed. "That was weird."

"He's been like that ever since the thing with Otis," Simmie said under her breath so that the rest of their group wouldn't hear.

"Otis?" Riley questioned. She hadn't imagined there could be hick names worse than "Merle" or "Daryl" but she'd been wrong.

"He was Patricia's husband. He was the one who shot Carl."

"And Shane was traumatized by his death how...?" If anything, she would've thought Shane would have been the one to put a bullet in Otis' head for shooting Carl.

"They went to get supplies at a high school, just the two of them. Shane said that Otis sacrificed himself."

Riley nodded. She didn't really see why Shane was so bothered by it; he seemed to take death in stride, like her and Daryl.

"Oh! Riley, Dale found a guitar on the highway!" Simmie suddenly exclaimed.

"Really?" Riley turned her quizzical gaze on the old man. "You play?"

"No, but Glenn does," he answered, ducking behind a tent and handing the embarrassed kid the guitar.

"You should sing something," Simmie said.

Riley scoffed, shaking her head. "Simmie..."

"It would be nice," Rick called from the other side of the fire. "A nice change of pace."

Riley grimaced. "I don't know..."

"Come on!" T-Dog and Carl begged.

She rolled her green eyes, sitting up straighter and crossing her legs. "Fine, fine. Glenn, do you know Sweet Dreams?" A blank look crossed his face. "You know by Eurythmics? Sweet dreams are made of these, who am I to disagree... Nothing?" He shook his head, and Riley huffed. "What do you know?"

He started rattling off a list of songs, and Riley stopped him when she heard a fairly popular one. They counted off before launching into the song.

_"Some nights, I stay up cashing in my bad luck. Some nights, I call it a draw. Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle. Some nights I wish they'd just fall off."_

Riley's voice was strong and lower than most girl's, with just a little rasp in it. It had a magnetic and hypnotizing quality to it; once you heard it, you needed to hear more just to clarify that that great voice was actually coming from this girl who never seemed like she would even like to sing.

_"But I still wake up; I still see your ghost. Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for."_

Her voice wasn't one that would win awards. It probably wasn't one that would even get a recording record. She was the girl who was nice to listen to, but she would never be famous. But seeing as how there was no more music or Cheryl Crows to be compared to, her voice sounded just fine.

_"This is it, boys, this is war-what are we waiting for?"_ she sang, her lips curling up into a smile as the song became more upbeat. She patted the beat on her legs, staring at Glenn as he strummed loudly on the guitar. It probably wasn't smart to be singing and making as loud of a ruckus as they were making, but they were having fun. Daryl could see it on all of their smiling faces: they could all forget about the evils and just pretend that they were all friends sitting around a campfire.

_"I try twice as hard and I'm half as liked, but here they come again to jack my style."_ Riley held a hand up, rolling her eyes and jokingly acting snobby. Daryl snorted beside her, shaking his head and looking at the ground to hide an amused smirk.

_"Some nights, I wish that this all would end. 'Cause I could use some friends for a change."_ For the first time since she'd started singing, she looked over at Daryl, pushing her shoulder against his.

She sang the rest of the song, and some of the people who were familiar with the tune mouthed it. When the song finally came to an end, they clapped and some of them asked her for more. She just shook her head, offering them a tired smile before standing up and walking off towards the stables.

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**Thanks for reading!**

**I hope the egg scene wasn't too _cheesy..._Bahahah see what I did there? (; I'm a comedian.**

**Riley's rant over Carol = perfection. I really hate Daryl x Carol... It's so gross... SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE COULD BE HIS MOTHER, OKAY.**

**RILEY FINALLY PUNCHED ANDREA THANK THE LORD JESUS. A great big sigh of relief has been uttered from my lips. Let's just hope Andrea doesn't do anything stupid like try to ignore Riley. That won't be good.**

**Other than that, I don't really have much to say. Except it's still hilarious how many of you hate Simmie. XD**

**DON'T FORGET TO CHECK OUT MY VIDEO! The link is on my profile! It would make my lifeeee. Love you guys.**

_**Lahey: OH DANG GIRL HAHAHAHA XD I love and hate that stuff about Simmie too... But I think if she needed to, she would be able to take down a walker. Riley just babies her too much lol XD Thanks for the review! (yours always make me laugh, btw XD)**_

_**6747: Hahaha XD Daryl is selfish how? Lol I hope I didn't make him too selfish! XD Thank you for your review!**_

_**OhWickedOne: Hahahaha I should sell "I hate Simmie" T-shirts. I bet I'd get a ton of money LOLOLOL XD Hahaha! Thanks for reviewing! (:**_

_**Leyshla Gisel: Haha I think Riley has a chronic need to be moving whenever she's awake hahaha! Thank you! I was hoping that I could make her vulnerable and show how scared she can really get while still trying to keep up the facade of not being bothered by things.. Thanks for the review(:**_

_**Audrey Whyte: Simmie does get mad at Riley a lot, doesn't she? XD When I first planned this story, I didn't expect Riley and Simmie to get into any fights, but what can I say? Riley and Simmie write themselves. (: Thank you! And I know ****right! It bothers me so much... It's very unrealistic for Daryl to be friends with people right after he meets them, let alone fall in love with them. Thanks for your wonderful review. (:**_


	14. Chapter 13

**Hello everyone! Sorry that it took me so long to update; I wanted to get a few chapters saved before I posted this one.**

**Hope you enjoy! (:**

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**13**

**Bloodstains**

"_Rileeeeeeey."_

Riley was standing in the middle of the farm's front yard. She could hear the scratchy moan from a walker, but she wasn't sure where the voice was coming from. She turned in a circle, seeing nothing but the trees in the distance.

"_Rileeeeeeey."_

The voice was right behind her. She whirled around, taking an involuntary step back in surprise.

The voice belonged to a little girl. She wasn't any older than eight with long, blonde hair. Her blue eyes were bright and focused on Riley as she innocently tilted her head to the side, examining the older woman.

Riley's whole body tensed. "Spencer? What are you doing here?"

Moans filled the air, and Riley could see the corpses shuffling up out of the woods towards the little girl's back. The child didn't move; oblivious to everything except her older sister.

Riley tried to lunge for her, but Riley's body was frozen in space. She growled in frustration, trying to reach the smaller girl. "Run, Spence, run! Look behind you!"

She didn't move, her head turning to the opposite side.

"_Spencer!" _Riley was becoming frantic, swinging her arms madly as the walkers approached way too quickly. "Get out of here; _listen to me!"_

The corner of Spencer's lips twitched up into a small smile. She waved at Riley, her pink lips parting to show her crooked teeth.

All of a sudden, her smile turned into a terrified, shrill scream as one of the walkers wrapped its arms around her waist, sinking its hungry jaws into her shoulder. Horror flooded through every inch of Riley's body, turning her blood to ice. She could only watch as the walkers converged on the shrieking little girl.

"Riley! Riley, _save me! _Help, Riley, _they're killing me! Help me!"_

Riley's tear-filled eyes opened, taking in sight of the wooden roof that stretched over her head. She inhaled shakily through her nose, reminding herself it was only a dream. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, and she could hardly find the motivation to sit up, let alone stand.

She shrugged out of her shirt, shaking it to get out all of the hay from the pile she'd slept in before slipping it back on. There was probably a ton in her hair, but at the moment she didn't really care. She didn't really care about anything.

She set out for the camp, where mostly everybody was awake. She sat on a log next to Simmie, who was sketching on a piece of paper with a stubby pencil, staring blankly at the ground.

"You okay?" Simmie whispered in her ear.

"Had a dream about Spencer," answered Riley in a monotone.

Simmie sighed, wrapping an arm around Riley's shoulders. Riley didn't have any urge to push her away; she let Simmie pull her closer, allowing Riley's head to lean against her neck.

Riley closed her eyes. With her eyes closed, the low murmur of the camp, the soft clanging of pots and pans, the smoke blowing in her face from the low fire could take her to another world: a world where dead people didn't rise or little girls didn't die.

"Hey y'all."

Rick's scratchy voice pulled Riley from her thoughts. She opened her light green eyes, looking at the Sheriff crouched next to the fire. Everybody was gathering around him, but Riley could hear fine from where she was.

"We're gonna start lookin' today. We got a base now, so we can organize it and do this right. Simmie, Carol, Lori, Dale- stay here an' keep an eye out. Everyone else, partner up."

Rick and Shane were a given. There was no way in hell Andrea was going to go anywhere with Riley, so that left Riley and Daryl.

Daryl suddenly loomed over Riley and Simmie. Riley looked up at him. "Ya comin', princess?"

Riley nodded, rising fluidly to her feet. Simmie stood as well, and Riley gave the woman a swift hug. "I'll be back soon. Stay close to the house, keep hydrated, and be _careful_."

Simmie rolled her eyes. "Yes, mom," she teased.

Riley gave her a small smile before turning back to Daryl. "We gonna ride horses?"

He nodded, running a thumb over his lips. They walked together to the stables, where Glenn and the unfamiliar brunette from the other day were getting out two horses.

The brunette looked up as they walked in, eyes locking on Riley. "Hey. Guess you're feelin' better."

Riley gave her a distrustful nod and stared stonily at her. Daryl tried to resist a smirk; he remembered when she'd been like that with their little group. Completely closed off and unresponsive, unless she wanted something.

"I'm Maggie," the farmer's daughter added.

Riley didn't respond, her features arranged into a featureless mask. Her eyes flickered over Maggie's shoulder to Glenn, who was awkwardly leading a palomino out of its stall. "Glenn, what are you doing?" she asked, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

He glanced at her, brown eyes stretched wide in confusion. "Getting a horse…"

Riley did roll her eyes this time, walking over to Glenn and taking the lead from him. "She's pregnant, idiot. Stop before you hurt yourself." Riley started muttering, smiling and stroking the horse's face. She planted a kiss on the soft, gray muzzle before leading the mare back into her stall.

"You know 'bout horses?" Maggie asked, arms crossed with an incredulous look on her face.

Riley nodded, walking over to the horse she'd rode the day before. She pulled her out, quickly putting on all the tack. Daryl finished just a little after her, and they both swung up into their saddles.

"Where are you guys going?" Riley asked Glenn from atop the chestnut's back.

"We were, uh, just gonna, uh, run around…town and, uh-"

"We're gonna see if we can find any supplies," Maggie intervened, shooting a glance at Glenn that clearly meant _shut up._

Riley smirked, nodding. "Have fun," she said, knowing exactly what they were about to do. It didn't take a genius to figure out, and Riley was almost a genius at reading people. She clucked her tongue in her mouth, setting off in a trot towards camp. Rick handed them a bunch of yellow strips of cloth, and the two disappeared into the woods.

* * *

"Wha's wrong?" Daryl asked suddenly.

Riley furrowed her brow, glancing back at him. "What do you mean?"

"We've been ou' here fer 'bout an hour, an' ya haven' started talkin' yet," he pointed out.

Riley's eyebrows rose. "I don't know if you've noticed this, but I'm not really the _social_ type. Right here good?"

He nodded, and she pulled her horse to a stop, hammering the cloth in with the hilt of her knife. Daryl decided to switch tactics. "I didn' know ya could sing."

Riley was confused. Hadn't he just been trying to get her to squeal? "Most people don't," she grunted, standing up in the stirrups to get a better angle. The cloth was finally finished, and she sat back down, urging her horse back into a walk.

"Ya were good."

She looked over her shoulder at him. He had his gaze firmly down on his gray stallion's mane. "Thanks," she muttered just loud enough for him to hear.

Before anything else could be said, something whizzed past Riley's ear. She started in surprise, causing her horse to nervously throw up its head and sidestep. She looked at the arrow that had imbedded itself in a squirrel corpse on a tree, the end still vibrating. She rolled her eyes, stroking her horse's neck to calm it down as Daryl collected the arrow and squirrel.

"Ya sleep at all las' night?" Daryl questioned, urging his horse into a walk beside hers. They weaved their way through the trees, eyes constantly searching the forest, alert for any walkers or lost little girls.

"Yeah. That sedative was strong as hell. I won't be able to sleep for at least three days," Riley stated, leaning forward and standing up to get a better look at the form stumbling through the forest. "Walker."

Daryl dispatched the corpse before it even had a chance to get anywhere near them, dismounting to grab his arrow. "Any nightmares?" he questioned, swinging back up in the saddle and looking at her like he already knew the answer.

_Well. Damn it all,_ Riley thought. The redneck genius had figured it out. She snorted and shook her head, intertwining her fingers with her mare's soft mane.

It was quiet for a few minutes before Riley realized that Daryl wasn't pushing her. Which was odd, considering how he _always_ pushed her. She glanced over at him, hearing her breath hitch in her throat and her heart stutter as she realized that he was staring at her with his predatory blue eyes.

She quickly looked away, hoping he couldn't hear her heart pounding madly in her chest. She felt her face flush, and she turned her head the opposite way, trying to calm herself. _God, it's high school all over again, _she thought frustratedly. When was the last time she'd let someone play with her emotions? She was a _mess; _a spool of spilled yarn, and Daryl was trying to play with the string.

"It was about my sister," Riley finally confessed after several more minutes of tense silence. Her lips pressed together into a grim line, and she kept her gaze firmly forwards.

She could see Daryl nod from the corner of her eye. He didn't need to say anything. Nothing needed to be said.

Eventually, as the sun was starting to inch down from its climax in the sky, Riley cleared her throat, looking at Daryl. "Why do you care so much?"

He looked up sharply, eyebrows furrowed. "Wha'?"

"About finding Sophia," Riley clarified with a shrug. "I mean, before, you never looked twice in her direction."

Daryl spat at the ground, a clear sign he was irritated. "Nosy bitch," he muttered.

Riley huffed and rolled her eyes. "Look, I answered your question. Least you can do is answer mine."

"I ain't gotta do nuthin'!" he protested angrily.

Riley looked around exasperatedly, throwing her hands up in the air. "What! _What_ is going on? A second ago you were being nice to me, and now you're throwing a freaking _hissy_ fit!"

"Shut up," he growled, urging his horse into a trot. He shot her a glare as he passed by. She reached out and grabbed his reins, holding him beside her. Both their horses came to a confused stop, their flanks brushing against each others.

"What the _hell_, Daryl?" she demanded, frustrated. "I just asked why you cared."

"I don't," he shot back, lying.

"Don't give me that shit," Riley ordered. "You _do_ care, or else you wouldn't be out here on a freaking _horse. _You'd be sulking by yourself like you used to do!"

His nostrils flared in fury. "Sulkin'?! I lost my _damn_ brother! You, of all people, should understand!"

Riley froze, her eyes blazing. Simmie knew the strict regime Riley fought to uptake: never, _ever, _mention Spencer. Daryl obviously didn't get that memo. She gritted her teeth, tightening her grip on the reins until her knuckles were white in an attempt to not hit him. "D- Don't make me regret telling you that."

"You think the others don't know? They know how ta put two an' two together," he sneered.

"Daryl Dixon, I swear to _God-_" Riley's voice broke, and she closed her eyes for a second to try and calm herself down. "If you told them-"

"I didn' tell them nuthin'," he growled.

Riley glared furiously at him for a few seconds more, feeling her leg brush against his as the horse shifted. She felt a slight chill run over her skin, and she clenched her jaw. "Good. Now… are you gonna tell me?" she asked in a much calmer tone, holding out a metaphorical white flag.

He rolled his eyes. "Ya're ruthless." She just shrugged, happy that he had agreed to the truce. "Not righ' now," he added, staring at her with an unreadable expression. His eyes held a message, but Riley couldn't read it. She just looked back in confusion before he clucked his horse forward, taking the lead back towards the house.

* * *

When they finally rode up into camp just after the sun had gone down, they were greeted by hopeful faces, which quickly descended back into bitter disappointment. Riley and Daryl shared a glance, knowing immediately that everyone had thought they'd found Sophia.

Riley and Daryl bickered as they swiftly rubbed down their horses and put them in their respective stalls. By the time they were done, Daryl had chased the haunting dream out of Riley's thoughts, making her laugh and smile as they headed back for the camp.

As soon as they made it back to the camp, Riley reluctantly ate a small portion of food. _Only_ because Simmie refused to eat Riley's food. Riley didn't sing that night; she lied about a sore throat to try and weasel her way out of it. She hadn't missed Daryl's amused smirk that he tried to hide behind his paper plate.

Riley spent that night on top of the RV, staring up quietly at the sky.

* * *

When morning finally rolled around, Riley rose and stretched near the jeep while Rick went over the new divisions he'd made based on the search yesterday. She watched as Daryl shrugged into a flannel shirt and froze as she spotted something on his chest. A few somethings that made her blood run cold. When they were done making plans, Riley stood up, waving Daryl over to her.

"You're going out by yourself?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Unless ya're comin' with me."

She shook her head. "Rick won't let me go. He wants me to stay just in case something happens here."

"Then I'm goin' by myself." He turned, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder.

"Daryl!" Riley called, stepping after him. He stopped, facing her expectantly. She had no idea why she'd said his name; there was nothing for her to say. What she really wanted was to ask him about the scars on his chest. But she knew if she asked him about them, she'd get the same response she'd gotten when she asked about Sophia. "Just… be careful."

His eyes narrowed, and he stared at her for a second. "I'll be back 'fore sundown," he promised before walking back towards the stables.

Riley sighed, walking up to Simmie, who was hanging clothes on a clothesline. The Indian offered her friend a big smile. "Hey, you."

"Hey." Riley crossed her arms, scanning the few women left in camp. "I owe you a horse ride."

Simmie grinned, quickly throwing the shirt she was holding back in the bucket. "Let's go."

After riding horses with Simmie, Riley stretched and helped with various tasks around camp- getting water from the wells, feeding the horses with Maggie, milking the cows with Beth and Jimmy, etc.

It wasn't until everyone trickled in that Riley began to get anxious. Daryl hadn't come back yet, even though the sun was starting to go down. He had promised to be back before sundown, and the sun was getting dangerously close to the horizon.

Rick wouldn't let her go after him, so she started to run around the property. The few days of TLC had Riley feeling extremely out of shape, even though she was in peak physical condition.

She was going around for her third time before she started hearing shouts. She slowed to a stop, looking to her left, where Glenn, T, Shane, and Rick were sprinting towards her, waving and yelling and pointing at something behind her. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she turned around. A walker was lurching its way out of the forest hardly a hundred yards from her.

_Good,_ she thought. She'd been looking for a sparring partner. Though Daryl would've been the more suitable option, a walker would be good too. She strode determinedly towards the corpse, pulling her knife from her thigh.

As she got close enough for the sun to dip beneath the trees and allow her a clear sight, she froze. Her blood turned to ice in her veins, and she felt all the breath whoosh out of her. Her heart stopped, and she felt the color drain from her face.

No. _No. No, no, no, no, NO!_

_Not Daryl, _she prayed feverently. _Please, let my mind be playing tricks on me._

But as walker Daryl swiveled its head towards her, she felt her heart plummet to her feet. Her mind refused to believe it; Daryl was strong, as strong as she was. He couldn't die. He _couldn't. _He and her, they were immortal. They were born to live in this kind of world; they'd lived in it before. He couldn't just _leave_ her.

"_NO!" _she screamed, sprinting towards Daryl. She _knew_ it was him; it had to be. It was a trick. He couldn't die.

T-Dog slammed into her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She frantically beat against him for a second before descending into a panicked silence. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, and she was trembling in her friend's arms.

"'Bout time ya pointed that at my head!" Daryl exclaimed.

Riley choked out a gasping-sob of relief, feeling her legs give out under her. T-Dog held her up so that it looked like she was standing on her own. She turned her head towards T's chest so no one would be able to see the tears that had unconsciously gathered in the corners of her eyes.

A loud crack rang out, splitting the silence. Riley gasped loudly, whirling around just in time to watch Daryl hit the ground. "Oh, _God!" _she shrieked, twisting out of T's grasp and sprinting towards him.

Rick and Shane picked him up, wrapping his arms around their shoulders.

"Oh my God," Riley breathed, running her gaze up and down his body, searching for a sign of life. "Is he-"

"He's not dead," Rick said grimly, pocketing a necklace of walker ears.

_Next order of business. _Riley turned towards the camp, looking for the soon-to-be-sorry son-of-a-bitch that shot Daryl.

Lo and behold, Andrea was running halfway to meet them, shotgun in her hand. Riley felt white-hot rage wash over her, and she took off towards Andrea. Everyone was so focused on Daryl, they completely forgot about Riley's violent tendencies.

"Oh, _shit!" _Andrea exclaimed.

Riley stopped in front of her, pulling her fist back and slamming it into the woman's face. She was hit with a pure wave of satisfaction as Andrea cried out, falling flat back onto the ground. Riley would've smiled had she not been angry enough to fight the devil himself.

She knotted her hand in the curly blonde hair, yanking Andrea to her feet. She dragged the blonde over to the RV before brutally slamming her head into the side of the vehicle, making the whole truck rock. There was a bloodstain on the side of the Winnebago, and Andrea crumpled to the ground, eyes rolling back. Riley smashed her foot into the woman's ribcage two times before T-Dog and Dale finally got to her.

"I will _kill _you, you sorry bitch!" Riley shouted, trying to squirm free of the men's grasp. "You shot Daryl!"

She shot Daryl. Daryl. Riley's mind instantly switched away from the pleasing thought of revenge, turning to worry and fear. She whirled on her heel, chasing after Shane and Rick as they carried Daryl's limp body up the stairs.

They laid him down in the same bed she'd stayed in, pulling off the sheets. Hershel, Beth, and Patricia had flocked after their little group, ordering for them to leave. Rick and Shane complied, but Riley sank even further into the room, standing in a corner. Hershel and Jimmy stripped off Daryl's shirt while Beth stood in front of Riley, trying to convince her to go away.

Riley snapped her furious gaze to the teen in front of her, making the girl take a step back in fear at the ferocity in her eyes. "Unless you want to die, leave me _alone._"

Beth just swallowed, turning on her heel and fleeing the room, returning quickly with a bowl of water. Nobody said anything else to Riley, who sank into a chair, propping her elbows against her knees. She folded her shaking hands together, leaning her chin against her fingers.

She was scared. She could hardly believe it, but she was _so_ afraid. She watched anxiously, her face fixed in its featureless mask like it always did whenever she got upset. It was a defense mechanism; no one could guess what she was feeling or thinking.

"He wasn't bit," Hershel said to Jimmy and Beth as they examined his body to take account of his wounds. Riley watched, unflinchingly, as they stitched up his side, tried their best to clean his chest of all the dirt, and bandage all of his wounds. There were quite a few.

Eventually it was just her and Hershel. "You can trust me; I'll do everythin' I can to help your friend."

She didn't show any outward signs of having heard him; her blank gaze was focused on Daryl's still unconscious form.

Hershel sighed, glancing at the stubborn woman. "You don't trust easy, do you? Can't really blame you. It's hard to trust people nowadays." He was quiet for a moment before finally straightening up and wiping his hands on his pants. "He'll be fine; he just needs to rest. Don't be gettin' him riled up now, ya hear? I'll be back later." With that, the veterinarian left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Riley didn't move. She just stared at Daryl. The strong man was crumpled in a bed, totally relying on someone other than himself for once. If something happened, it would be Riley's responsibility to protect him. She shuddered; she didn't like having to take care of him. He was able to protect himself, and she was able to protect herself. She liked that about being with Daryl; she didn't have to constantly be on guard. She could let herself relax just enough to enjoy herself.

There was a sharp scuttling and a loud commotion as something ran up the stairs. Sky appeared at the door, trotting over and giving her owner's hand a lick before settling at her feet.

Riley pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping one arm around her leg and letting the other arm dangle, the tips of her fingers brushing Sky's silky fur.

And she waited.

* * *

**Wow, a short chapter. Is that even possible? **

**Riley has the worst dreams...ever. I feel so sorry for her. ):**

**Is it bad that I cackled when I re-read Riley beating up Andrea? I don't even care if it was, I'm so happy that it happened! Maybe Andrea will have some sense knocked into her.**

**Lahey: That's a smart idea... I can see that going... That would definitely be interesting for Riley; she'd probably go mad trying to find Simmie. And what's SOL mean? XD AND THANK YOU! I _know _right! My grandmother doesn't have gray hair AND SHE'S FREAKING 78. Hahaha, but wolves are a pack species. (: Thank you for ****reviewing!**

**Leyshla Gisel: I can spell your name now without having to look! I feel so accomplished hahaha! And aww, I'm glad I could make you happy! (: Thanks for reviewing!**

**Audrey Whyte: Right? Gosh, writing is so much fun. (: and YES! Especially after that one line about a sister... But I'm sure she "forgot" *wink wink* about that line. Hehe. Thanks for reviewing! (:**


	15. Chapter 14

**Hello all!**

**Sorry it's taken me so long to post; I've kind of lost inspiration, but with the return of the show it's kind of coming back! And, all of y'all's lovely reviews help as well.**

**But seriously... 50 followers?! _50?! _Y'all are insane. Thank y'all so much (:**

**In this chapter, we get to see Riley's (****nonexistent) bedside manners. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**14**

"Riley?"

She didn't answer; her eyes firmly glued to Daryl's unconscious form.

"Riley, please; answer me."

Riley's green eyes flickered over to her Indian friend's concerned face as a reply.

Simmie felt a tiny bit better; at least she was getting a response. Simmie crouched down next to the agent, taking the woman's dangling hand with both of hers. "Riley, I know you're scared."

Riley shifted a tiny bit. "I'm not scared," she retorted.

"Yes you are," Simmie said gently, smiling meekly up at her. "Daryl will be fine. But you won't be. You need to rest."

Riley frowned, her eyes turning back to Daryl.

"No, no, Riley, listen to me." Simmie stood on her knees, blocking her friend's view. "If you want to be able to help him; if you want to protect us, you have to rest. You need to get your strength back up."

Riley's frown deepened, and her brow furrowed. "I can't leave."

"Yes, you can," Simmie reassured. "If it'll make you feel better, I'll stay here."

Riley swayed a little, pondering the offer before she exhaled sharply. Her legs fell back down to the floor, and she leaned her elbows against her knees. She dropped her head into her hands, running agitated fingers through her wild mess of hair. "What if something happens?" Riley whispered.

"Nothing will happen," Simmie promised. She knew exactly why Riley was terrified by the thought of leaving her friend's bedside. The last time she had left someone's bedside for just a second, her sister had died without Riley getting the chance to say goodbye. "Riley, he's so much stronger than Spencer. These aren't fatal wounds; Beth told me."

Riley brought her face up, covering her mouth with a hand. Simmie could see the reluctant tears gathering in her friend's glossy eyes. "It'll happen to me. It's what I- It's what I deserve," Riley's voice broke, and she pressed her trembling lips together.

"No, sweetie," Simmie consoled, feeling her heart lurch in her chest as she sat next to Riley. She pulled her friend into an embrace, Riley's head burrowing in Simmie's shoulder. Riley hiccupped a quiet sob, her back shaking as she cried. "You don't deserve it, Riley, I promise." Simmie could feel tears swimming in her eyes as she stroked Riley's hair.

There was a shifting noise.

Simmie and Riley both snapped their gazes up to the man laying on the bed, eyes open and locked on them. Riley quickly ducked her head behind Simmie's shoulder, frantically rubbing away her tears. Simmie just gave Daryl a tiny smile as a greeting, and he looked up at the ceiling with a groan.

Simmie stood up, quickly kissing her friend's forehead before making her way out of the room to give the two some privacy. She hadn't missed the two's strange relationship, and she often wondered if there was something going on between the lines.

Simmie stepped onto the porch, eyes widening at the sight of Andrea sitting on the front steps, Beth tending to her face. Andrea looked up, her swollen lips flicking up into a sad smile. "How is he?"

Simmie felt nervous talking to the blonde. She wanted to be friends with Andrea, but she was afraid of what Riley would do. And it obviously made Riley furious for her to be anywhere near the woman, and since Simmie cared more for Riley than for Andrea, she would listen to what Riley said.

"He just woke up. He'll be okay. What about you?" Simmie couldn't stop the concern that she felt; Riley had busted up Andrea's face pretty bad.

Andrea gave a small shrug. "I'll be fine." She flinched, recoiling as Beth gently brushed the rag against her cheek.

"I've got to clean off all the dirt," Beth said apologetically, shooting Simmie a tired smile.

Simmie felt her lips turn up in amusement as the wounded woman bickered with Beth, stepping around them and going to assist Carol with the laundry.

"Is he gonna be okay?" she asked nervously, her eyebrows pinched up in concern.

"He's fine," Simmie reassured, shooting the woman a calm smile. "Have you started dinner yet?"

"No, but I'm goin' right now," Carol answered as she strung up the last shirt. Simmie and Carol walked back to the crowded house, starting on the intricate dinner they were cooking for everyone.

* * *

"Wha' ya cryin' fer?" Daryl asked as Riley immediately came to his side. He sat up, wincing in pain and scooting over.

Riley sat down beside him. "I wasn't crying." He gave her a condescending gaze, and she rolled her eyes. "Fine. I was crying," she admitted. "But I'm not gonna tell you what for."

"Honestly, ya'd think you'd learn by now not ta be worried 'bout me," Daryl muttered, but inwardly he felt a little odd. Riley was crying over him. _Riley. _He didn't think Riley would cry for anything over than her sister; he couldn't help it if she came across as a little heartless.

"I'm not," she promised falsely. She rested her heels against the side of the bed, looking down at Sky. It was quiet for a moment. "Andrea shot you."

Daryl snorted. "Shoulda figured."

"I beat the hell out of her," Riley responded, almost proudly, looking at him with a slight twinkle in her eyes.

Daryl smirked in amusement, propping his head up on his arm, careful to keep off of his right side. "An' why would ya do that?"

"She had it coming," Riley answered, smiling a little and turning her gaze away. Daryl didn't miss how she kept stepping around his questions.

"Ya ain't gunna ask how I feel or any o' that shit?" Daryl questioned.

Riley shook her head, smirking. "You wouldn't give me an honest answer anyways."

Daryl felt his own smirk widen; she was right, of course. "I'm feelin' tha same way 'bout you righ' now."

She looked at him, a knowing smile appearing on her face before she looked away with a shrug. She laced her fingers together and pressed them against her lips, trying to calm her still-racing heart. Sky walked up and sat down at her owner's feet, tongue lolling between her canines. Riley reached out and absently ran a hand over the soft fur. "Are you okay?" she asked, turning her concerned gaze on his blue-eyed one.

"I'll be fine," he answered. They stared at each other, and Riley felt the sudden urge to touch him. To touch his face and be sure he was actually there and was actually talking to her.

She wasn't aware that she was actually leaning towards him before there was a sharp rap on the door as it swung open. She leaped back, her face flushing in embarrassment as Rick and Shane came in.

"Hey," Rick greeted. "Feelin' better?"

Daryl shifted awkwardly, hoping that the dastardly duo hadn't seen Riley try to… Well, do whatever she'd been trying to do. "Fine."

Shane's eyes flickered between the redneck and Riley, who was shooting Rick a smile as he came on her side of the bed. "What happened out there, man?"

Daryl shrugged, wincing; Riley's carefully scrutinizing eyes narrowed in concern. "Found her doll."

Riley blinked several times, stunned into a short silence. "A… _Doll?"_

Daryl gave her a '_yeah, what about it?' _look, and she shook her head, sharing an exasperated glance with Rick.

Rick stepped closer to Daryl. "Where?"

"Gimme a map an' I'll show ya."

In a matter of minutes, they were folding up the map that'd been spread across the bed. Hershel had come in to check the stitches in his side – he'd pierced himself with one of his arrows – and make sure he wasn't getting a fever. It wasn't long before everyone had gone, leaving Riley and Daryl alone. Well, alone with Sky, but she wasn't much trouble.

"So, are you gonna tell me the rest of the story?" Riley asked, sitting in the chair on the other side of the room, one eyebrow cocked knowingly.

Daryl laid on his back, one arm under his head as he stared up at the ceiling. "Nuthin' else importan'," he said gruffly.

"I don't need to be shielded, Daryl," she responded with her piercing green gaze that he was carefully avoiding. "What all happened to you?"

"Nuthin', Riley."

Riley sighed, rolling her eyes. "Fine, don't tell me. But, will you tell me one thing?" she asked, leaning forwards.

"Maybe," he answered skeptically, wary of what she was going to say.

"The reason that you care so much about finding Sophia…" she started, speaking slowly and deliberately, careful to use the right words. Anything could set him off. "Is it because…you were abused too?"

Daryl's gaze snapped up to her, and his blue eyes narrowed. Riley's breath hitched in her throat at his intense glare, and she was quick to explain, "You flinch every time I get anywhere near you, and the scars…" She nodded her head towards the gruesome marks covering his chest.

Daryl didn't have to look down to see them; he had long since memorized how they looked. "None o' yer business," he snapped.

She gave him a sad little smile, glancing at the ground for a second before looking back at him. "I have scars too," she whispered.

And for a second, Daryl could finally see past her mask. The emotions dancing across her face were so vivid and strange, it made a chill run down his spine. He'd never seen her openly sad. He'd never seen her anything but expressionless and mad, save for the rare, _real_ smiles she'd shoot him occasionally. Her lips were turned down in a strawberry frown, and her green eyes were glossy, but that could've been a trick of the light. Her lips were trembling, and her hands were clasped together so tightly that her knuckles were white.

Daryl had no clue what to say. He felt extremely overwhelmed, and he wished that she would just _go_ and spare him from this awkward situation. All the anger at her being so _damn smart_ and figuring it out drained away, and he just felt tired and morose.

"Sorry," he finally grumbled, casting his eyes toward the ceiling.

"Not your fault." She wiped at her dry cheeks, looking down at the ground and fighting off the tears. She was re-living every punch, kick, slap, gunshot, stab wound that she'd ever gotten, and it was quickly dragging her down. She knew that she had hit a nerve, but she'd hit a nerve in herself too.

Desperate to not think about anything, she exhaled harshly. "Please say something," she demanded, staring at him and trying to only think about him.

"Whaddaya want me to say?" he questioned.

"How do you like the farm?"

He snorted, but he appreciated the change of subject as much as she did. "We're exposed, bu' we don' have anywhere else ta go."

"We could do patrols," Riley offered, leaning her chin against her clasped hands.

"Ain't nobody who'll wanna do tha'," Daryl retorted. "We're exhausted."

Riley shrugged, knowing he was right. Everybody felt safe even though there was no fortification.

The door quietly opened, and Simmie stuck her head in the room. A wide smile crossed her face at the sight of the both of them, and she opened the door more and stepped in. "Dinner's ready," she told Riley.

"I-" Riley wanted to go with Simmie – the women had apparently all cooked a feast for everyone as a thank you to Hershel – but she didn't want to leave Daryl all by himself why everyone else feasted. "I'll just eat in here."

Disappointment clearly shone on Simmie's face, but was quickly hidden. She smiled again, nodding and turning to Daryl. "Feeling better?"

Daryl grunted in response and Simmie, confused on what a grunt meant, just accepted it as a 'yes'. "That's good." She looked back at Riley. "At least come down and get your food; say hello to everyone."

Riley relented, going down and greeting everyone. She did a lot of fake smiling – and a little real smiling – as she made herself a small plate and heaped food on Daryl's, trying to get him a little of everything. She thanked the women for cooking, got pulled into a reluctant hug with Lori, and nearly dropped her plates all over Glenn when Sky darted out from under the table and made her lose her balance.

She scuttled away, releasing a huge sigh of relief as soon as the door to Daryl's room was shut.

Daryl looked up at her with a smirk of amusement. "Have fun socializin'?"

She set his plate down on the nightstand beside him, rolling her eyes. "Good _Lord _no."

Daryl snorted softly in agreement, rolling over onto his back as Riley sat back down in her chair, propping her heels up on the end of his bed. She took a bite of her dinner before noticing Daryl wasn't moving towards his plate.

"Daryl."

He glanced up in surprise at the seriousness of her tone, meeting her narrowed eyes.

"Eat."

His eyebrows rose, and he fell back defiantly. "Don' tell me wha' ta do."

"What are you- three? Eat."

He didn't move, resting his head on one arm as he stared at the ceiling.

Riley put her plate down on the ground, standing up. "Daryl Dixon, unless you want our egg fight to be repeated, you better eat _right now._"

He looked at her, his lips twisted up into a smirk. "Tha' was fun."

Though she was trying to intimidate him, she couldn't hold back the smile that quickly appeared. "Yeah, that was," Riley agreed. "Now hurry up and eat! Simmie and them worked hard, and if Simmie comes back in and sees you didn't eat anything, she'll get hurt."

"Ohhh," Daryl sighed knowingly, sitting up and leaning his back against the headboard. "So you ain't actually worried 'bout me; you're jus' worried 'bout Simmie's feelin's gettin' hurt."

Riley shot him a condescending look as he picked up his plate. She didn't want to say it wasn't true, because then she'd be cornered into admitting that she was worried, but she didn't want him to think that it was true. Finally she contented with an eye roll and a "Whatever" before sitting back down and eating.

"'Ey, I'm gettin' tired. Ge' ou'."

Riley couldn't help but smile; he wasn't one to hope she'd take the hint. But she liked his straightforwardness. Riley stood up, crossing over to the door as he laid back down under the blanket.

"Anything you need?"

"Naw." He turned his back towards her, and Riley stared at him for a moment.

"'Night, Daryl."

"G'night," he responded gruffly. Riley turned off the lamp, grabbing both of their plates and closing the door behind her.

Only one lamp in the living room was still on; Riley was sure it was because the Greene's were trying to conserve whatever little electricity they had left. Everyone seemed to be in their rooms or outside, enjoying the summer night. Riley went into the dark kitchen, swiftly washing the two dishes before putting them up in the appropriate cabinet.

She walked outside, making her way over to the hubbub that was their camp. As soon as she got there, Carl ran up to her, eyes wide in nervous-amazement. "Riley, you wanna see what I taught Sky?"

Riley shrugged, following him over to the dog laying next to the fire. Sky jumped up, licking Riley's hand and running around her legs in a circle.

"Sit, Sky!" Carl commanded. The dog obediently dropped in front of Riley, looking up at the boy with a lolling tongue. Carl lowered himself to one knee, holding out a hand. "Shake, Sky!"

The german shepherd raised one paw, and Carl shook hands with her. "Good girl!" Carl praised, beaming. Sky proudly puffed out her chest, licking his face before running off. Carl turned to Riley, grinning expectantly up at her.

"That's cool," Riley stated. Carl's smile started to droop, and Riley realized he wanted a more enthusiastic answer. "Uh- Really." She shot him a fake smile. "That's fantastic. How'd you teach her that?"

Carl's smile returned, and it was his turn to proudly puff out his chest. "I gave her little treats every time she did it right."

"Good job," Riley praised, and Carl grinned even wider, running off to join his mom and dad, who were watching with affectionate smiles. Rick and Riley shared a nod, before Rick got distracted talking to Carl.

"Hey, Riley!" a familiar voice called.

Riley turned to see Glenn waving at her, sitting a little bit aways with his guitar in his lap. He had a little group consisting of Dale, Maggie, and Simmie clustered around him.

Riley crossed over, gracefully sitting next to Simmie. "Hey."

"Hey," they all greeted, shooting her peaceful smiles.

"How's Daryl?" Dale asked.

"He's already getting cabin fever, but he'll be fine," Riley answered. "How are you guys doing?" She got scattered fines in response.

"Hey," Simmie said, drawing the agent's attention down to the smiling Indian, "You know, I saw that pregnant mare today. She's _really_ far along. I was thinking that maybe you and me could go set up down there, so we'd be nearby just in case she went into labor at night."

Riley nodded. "That sounds like a great idea. I'll help you move our stuff down in a little while."

Riley's thoughts flickered back to this morning, remembering how Simmie was sketching. Riley hadn't thought anything of it then, but Riley definitely thought about it now.

"Glenn," Riley spoke up, looking at the Asian boy. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Uh- Nothing," he answered, slightly startled.

"Great. I know I've been kind of replaced, but I need my go-to-town partner. You in?" Glenn grimaced, glancing nervously at Maggie, but nodded anyways. "Thank you."

"What are you going for?" Simmie asked.

"I'm going to get you some paint and canvases," Riley answered. Simmie's eyes widened. "I know you miss it."

The former elementary school art teacher beamed, throwing her arms around Riley's waist. "You're the best, you know that?" she cheered.

Riley smiled, hugging back the enthusiastic woman. "Yeah. What do you want in particular, because I really have no idea what to look for…"

Simmie leaned back and started explaining the few items she wanted in great detail, flapping her hands around in wild gestures.

"Uh, are ya really gonna risk your lives to get some paint?" Maggie interrupted, fixing Riley with an incredulous gaze.

Riley raised an eyebrow at the woman. "Yes. I'll bring Glenn back, don't worry."

Maggie shook her head. "That don't make me feel any better. I don't want you to go," she said, looking at Glenn.

"Maggie, it's okay, really. Riley's CIA," Glenn explained. "She can fight better than any of us. I've seen her take on almost a dozen walkers at a time."

Maggie pursed her lips together unhappily, but didn't say anything else.

"Come on," Riley said, standing up and helping Simmie to her feet. "Let's move down to the stables."

Riley and Simmie packed up their tent and few belongings, shouldering the supplies and heading towards the barn, Sky running ahead of them. They didn't even bother setting up the tent, unrolling their sleeping bags in an empty stall instead. It was a little cramped, but seeing as how they would hardly be spending any time it seemed fine considering the circumstances.

Once they finished, they pulled the pregnant mare out of her stall, tying her up and gently brushing her flanks. They talked and babied the horse, who seemed to be quite enjoying the attention.

"She can't be more than a week due," Riley remarked, running her hands over the heavily swollen belly.

"I'm excited," Simmie confessed. "It'll be nice to have something good again."

Riley nodded. "It _has_ been kind of gloomy since the world ended," she joked.

Simmie giggled, and Riley cracked a grin before the palamino gave a sudden snort of surprise, head snapping up towards the open door. Simmie gasped in fear, and Riley jerked her gaze in that direction.

Before she could even pull out her knife, Shane stepped into the stable, hands up at his chest. "Sorry; didn't mean to scare y'all."

Simmie sighed in relief, clutching her chest and leaning against the once-again relaxed horse. Riley shrugged, crouching down to pick up the curry she'd dropped. "It's fine. What are you doing?"

"Jus' walkin' by when I heard y'all."

Riley nodded, not missing Simmie's distrustful glance towards the man. "I haven't seen you around much lately. You okay?" Riley asked, looking back at Shane.

Her piercing eyes made him extremely uncomfortable; he felt like she could see right through him. "Fine," he answered shortly. "Gotta go. See ya later." Without waiting for a response, he disappeared.

"That was weird," Riley muttered, running her fingers through the horse's cream-colored mane.

"He's been acting like that ever since he got back from his trip with Otis," Simmie added in a low voice.

Riley's brow furrowed. "Huh. What'd he say happen, again?"

"They went to the high school to get some medical supplies for Carl, and they got chased by a herd, and Otis sacrificed himself."

He just… sacrificed himself? For a boy that he didn't know? Riley'd heard of valiant stories similar to that, but they were in dire situations, and only executed by the bravest of men. Otis had had a family and a wife… He wouldn't have just given up for some kid that he didn't know. Realizing Simmie was looking expectantly at Riley, waiting for an answer, Riley provided a simple, "Hm."

"What are you thinking?" Simmie asked suspiciously.

"Nothing."

They finished brushing the horse, returning the happy mare to her stall before going to their own. Simmie curled up in her sleeping bag, and Riley sat down, leaning her back against the wall, her thoughts still focused on Shane and Otis.

* * *

**I hope this chapter didn't completely bore you to tears. Next chapter, though, y'all will love. I know it. (:**

**Riley's getting suspicious of Shane (;**

**Tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading. (:**


	16. Chapter 15

**Here you go!**

**I'm gonna try - _try _- to spit out a chapter every Sunday from now on... Or Monday... Don't really know how long this is going to last but we'll see!**

* * *

**15**

**Robin Eggs**

"Riley? Simmie?"

"Yeah, we're in here," Riley answered the call, looking up at the Asian boy who came to their stall door.

"I brought you guys some fruit," Glenn said, tossing them two peaches.

Riley snatched the two out of the air one at a time with one hand, seeing as how Simmie was busy trying to brush the giant thorn bush that was Riley's hair. "Thanks."

"Welcome. Morning, Simmie," he greeted.

"Morning, Glenn!" the Indian chirped cheerfully.

"Hey, I'll come get you when I'm ready to go," Riley stated.

Glenn nodded, turning and walking away.

"And Glenn!" Riley called, bringing the boy back to their stall. She had a knowing glint in her green eyes as she said, "Whenever you decide to get that huge secret off your chest, I'm here."

Glenn's eyes widened and his face drained of color. He gulped nervously, nodding faintly before scurrying away.

Simmie's brow furrowed as she finally tugged out the last tangle. "What secret?"

"I don't know, but if he's not telling us it can't be that harmful."

Simmie sighed, putting down the brush and skillfully braiding Riley's hair down her back. "How do you know so much about people?"

"I went to school for it, remember?" Riley stood up once she was done, smiling and taking a bite out of her peach.

"I know," Simmie responded, swiftly running the brush through her own thick black hair. "But even before college you knew about people."

Riley shrugged as Simmie stood and they headed out of the stables. "It's a talent." Her eyes landed on the house, and she started walking towards the building. "I'm gonna go check up on Daryl; I'll meet up with you later!"

Simmie waved, and Riley walked straight to Daryl's room, waving at the few people she saw.

Daryl was still laying down, but that didn't stop Riley from barging straight in, opening the blinds and grinning at him as he squinted up at her. "Rise and shine!" Riley sang.

"Go away," he mumbled, pulling the blankets over his head.

Riley tossed the half-eaten peach up in her hand, feeling a mischievous smirk spread across her face. She aimed the peach at the lump that signified his head, inwardly cheering when he cried out in surprise.

He shoved the blankets away, looking at her with wide eyes. "The _hell_ is wrong with ya?!"

"I _said_ rise and shine," Riley answered innocently, fixing him with her best puppy-dog face. "What else was I s'posed to do?"

"Go away like I said!" Daryl retorted angrily, rubbing his neck and sitting up. He winced in pain, his hand flickering down to his side.

"Sorry, I don't take orders from invalids," Riley teased.

Out of nowhere, the peach came sailing back towards her face. She just barely stepped out of the way, having the flying fruit clip her shoulder before slamming into the wall with a loud bang. She stuck out her chin triumphantly. "Missed me."

"Barely," he retorted, a smirk appearing on his face.

"Y'all okay in there?" they heard Hershel call.

"We're fine; Daryl's just throwing food!" Riley yelled back through the door.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Ya're damn annoyin', ya know tha' right?"

Riley shrugged, smiling. "Only to you."

Daryl started pushing his covers away, and, after quickly explaining what the _hell_ he was doing, Riley helped him stand up. He tried to push her away, but she ignored all his protests, wrapping one arm around his back and helping him out of the house. They slowly made their way over to Daryl's tent, where Riley swiftly made him a little pallet that he dropped onto.

"You okay?" Riley questioned, seeing him squish up his face in pain.

"Fine," he grunted back, slowly relaxing his tense muscles.

The tent flap pulled away, revealing Glenn's face. "Hey, Riley," he said uncomfortably, careful to avoid her eyes. "I'm gonna leave soon so…be ready. Hey Daryl," he added as an afterthought before drawing back.

"Where're y'all goin'?" Daryl asked, brows furrowed.

"We're gonna run into town for a second. You want anything?"

"No ya ain't," Daryl retorted. Riley rose her eyebrows challengingly. "Ya made me stay when you were hurt, least ya can do is return the favor."

"I don't think so," Riley responded with a shake of the head.

Daryl was about to keep arguing, but Rick walked by the tent, doing a double take before ducking in. Riley scooted over, making room for him to crouch down.

"Hey, man, you feelin' okay?" Rick asked.

"Hurts like hell, but I'll be fine," Daryl answered, looking uncomfortable.

"Good." Rick looked at Riley. "Glenn told me that you and him were going to town-"

"Naw she ain't," Daryl interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Shut up," Riley snapped. "Keep going," she said to Rick.

Rick's eyebrows rose, and he had to fight a smile. "Later Shane and I are gonna teach everyone how to shoot a gun. We'll wait for y'all to get back if you wanna help. I'd feel a lot better to have someone with as much experience as us."

Riley nodded. "Yeah, I'll be there."

"Thanks," he stated, standing up and walking off. Riley watched Shane walk by, and, reminded of her thoughts from last night, leaned towards Daryl. He instinctively flinched and pulled back, but she waved for him to come closer.

"I think Shane killed Otis," she whispered. Daryl's brow furrowed, and she explained, "It makes sense. He's been withdrawn and moody, he shaved his head-"

"'Cause he wanted a new hairdo, you think he killed somebody?" Daryl asked skeptically, raising one eyebrow.

"It's- It's not just a new hairdo. You heard him the other day; he said he wanted a _change_."

"So?" he demanded.

"_So, _after you kill somebody… It changes you. It sticks with you. You don't feel the same. Your innocence… is gone," Riley swallowed, looking down at the ground for a second as her thoughts were flooded with the people she'd killed. "You don't feel the same inside, so you change your outside. And why would Otis sacrifice himself for a kid he _doesn't know_. All the signs are there."

Daryl nodded slowly, and Riley could see the wheels turning in his head. "Makes sense…"

Riley nodded. "Yeah. But some of us aren't cut out for killing."

Daryl's blue eyes met hers. "Are you?" he asked.

Riley's stomach dropped, and she looked away in shame. She was cut out for killing; she was perfect for it. She was much too good at it, and he had figured it out.

Riley turned towards the tent door as someone stepped through it again. Seemed like Daryl was the hubbub of activity around camp.

Fury rose up in her chest as she saw Andrea, close enough for Riley to reach out and touch the insufferable woman. Riley's eyes turned into two blazing emeralds as Andrea's black eye flickered nervously over to the agent.

"I just want to talk to Daryl," she said.

"Sorry," Riley sneered. "He's not available at the moment."

Andrea looked desperately at Daryl, who was staring blankly at the woman's bruised face. "Please, Riley-"

"You know, you are _really_ getting on my last nerve," Riley said loudly, rising fluidly to her feet and stepping forward aggressively. Andrea quickly stepped back, hands help up at her chest.

"Riley!" Daryl called from inside the tent.

"You need to leave," Riley threatened, feeling her fingers curl into fists.

"_Riley!"_

"I'll just come back later," Andrea muttered, walking away.

Riley stood for a few more seconds, glaring at her retreating back before plopping back down on the ground inside the tent. She started furiously untying her shoes, ripping out the knots hard enough to jerk her foot to the side.

She caught sight of Daryl, who was sporting a full-blown smirk. "_What_ the hell is so funny?" Riley demanded.

"Did you do that to her face?" he asked, seeming to be barely containing a laugh.

"'Course I did; she freaking _shot_ you, Daryl!"

Daryl chuckled, shaking his head and looking up at the roof.

"It's not funny," Riley protested weakly, unable to stop the smile that was quickly appearing on her face.

"It's damn hilarious," he retorted. "You beatin' the shit ou' of Andrea… Wish I'd been awake ta see it."

Riley shrugged. "Wasn't much to see. It wasn't even hardly a fight; she couldn't touch me," she responded proudly.

Daryl snorted, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Atta girl".

"I should go now," Riley said, standing up and wiping the seat of her pants.

Daryl's smile dropped, and he fixed her with a glare. "Hell no."

"Hell yes," she shot back. "I swear I'll be back."

"If somethin' happens I cain't come get ya," he growled.

Riley's stomach did a strange flip. "I'll have a horse, Daryl. I'll be fine. I was in the CIA, Daryl, I can handle myself."

Daryl huffed. "Damn you," he muttered.

"Now wouldn't it be bad if I died with that being the last thing you said to me."

"Don't die then," he quipped.

Riley smiled. "I'll be back soon," she said, ducking out of the tent. She strode over to a queasy-looking Glenn near Dale. "Ready?"

Glenn nodded, and they went over to the stables to grab their horses.

The trip went without a hitch; they only ran into a few walkers, which Riley dispatched quickly. They quickly returned back to the farm, happy to see that everyone had already set up. Glenn went on to be with them, while Riley stuck behind for a second to talk to Daryl.

She ducked into the tent. "Still alive!"

Daryl smirked. "Good."

"I'm going to teach people how to shoot now, you okay with that?" she asked teasingly.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Get ou' of here."

Riley smiled, leaving the tent and sprinting in the direction Glenn had gone.

"Finally!" T-Dog shouted as Riley entered their little clearing.

"Shut up!" she yelled back, walking over to Simmie, who looked very odd carrying the pistol.

Rick and Shane started the class, and gunshots started ringing out. Riley didn't really think wasting all their ammo in practice was wise, but if it taught some of the women – and Jimmy – how to shoot, it'd be worth it in the future.

"Alright, hold it steady," Riley told Simmie, watching the woman aim her barrel with the glass bottle. "You wanna aim a little higher to compensate for the distance. Okay- hold it- ready?- shoot!"

There was an explosion, and Simmie flinched, grabbing her shoulder at the recoil. The bullet hadn't hit the bottle.

"_God_ that hurt," Simmie muttered.

Riley rolled her eyes. "You'll get used to it. You need to relax your arms a little more, it'll help. Ready? Let's try again. Okay- steady- go!"

She still missed. Four tries later, and _she was still missing_.

Riley couldn't help but laugh. "You _suck_ at this, Simmie!"

"Shut up and teach me how!" Simmie whined, hitting Riley in the stomach.

"You might just be unteachable," Riley warned, smiling.

"I'll be the judge o' that," Shane stated, walking up. From the flicker of a smile he shot the two women, Riley judged that he was in a much better state of mind. She was more than happy to leave Simmie in the police officer's hands- like Rick said, Shane was the instructor, not Riley.

Riley went up and down the line, occasionally stopping to help someone and give them tips. After about an hour, they all packed up and went back to camp. Everyone's spirits were soaring, and even Riley and Shane were happy.

* * *

Riley and Simmie had set up lawn chairs outside of Daryl's tent, and the three of them were talking and goofing around. Simmie was ogling over her new art supplies; rambling endlessly over the canvases and paintbrushes.

Simmie didn't start painting until the sun dipped lazily down towards the horizon. She turned her chair towards the house, smearing a tube of orange and green paint across the canvas. Riley watched silently as the transfixed woman became lost in her painting, looking happier than she'd ever been.

Riley caught sight of Shane storming past their tent, and she leapt to her feet. "'Ey, boss!" she called, making the man glance over his shoulder but not stop.

"Riley!" Daryl shouted from the tent, sitting up on his elbow. "Ya sure tha's wise?" he questioned, obviously remembering their earlier conversation.

Riley just nodded, jogging after the police officer. She fell into step beside him. "You okay?" she asked.

"Fine," Shane growled back. It was quiet for a second before he rounded on her, his brown eyes blazing. "Whatever you came to say- say it."

"I know you killed Otis," Riley answered. Shane scoffed, looking at the ground and shaking his head before looking back at her. He was about to deny it before she cut him off, "Please, Shane, don't patronize me. I'm not here to tattle on you or judge you."

"Then what are you here for?" he demanded, crossing his arms.

"I want the full story. The _real_ story."

Shane shook his head, turning away. "You know the story."

Riley stepped forward, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. "_Shane. _You're not a monster; you're not a killer. The guilt is eating you alive. You're going crazy in your head, and I can see it, and I can _help you._"

"What do you know about killing?" Shane spat furiously.

Riley's jaw clenched. "After the first person I killed, I cut my hair and dyed it blonde. I got a spray tan, and I refused to talk to any of my friends or family. I just sat in my apartment by myself, haunted by his ghost. My boss caught on pretty quick what had happened, and he helped me get over it. I think I would've killed myself, Shane, if he hadn't helped me. Let me help you before you do anything stupid."

"I ain't gonna kill myself. Not with Lori and Carl needin' me."

"I know you won't. Death affects everyone differently. Shane, I'm not condoning you. I would've done the same thing. I would do _anything _to keep Simmie safe- _anything_."

Shane's lip quivered for a second before he rubbed his head with both of his hands. "I had to… He wasn't gonna make it, only I coulda made it…"

Riley nodded. "I know. I like you Shane, and I don't want to see you hurt yourself or anybody else. If you ever need to talk or if you need a distraction, come find me. Okay?"

Shane nodded, and Riley shot him a small smile before walking back towards Daryl's tent. She plopped down in the lawn chair, sighing heavily and tucking some of her loose hair behind her ear.

"How'd it go?" Daryl asked.

Riley just gave him a small nod, signifying that Shane was guilty of murder. Daryl seemed to understand and laid back down, fiddling with one of his arrows.

Riley leaned back in her lawn chair, keeping a solemn eye out for any trouble. She started humming as she watched the camp interact with each other, making mental notes on everyone. It wasn't until the sun had long since disappeared that Simmie finally stopped painting.

"Are you finished?" Riley asked, eyes flickering over to the woman as she put down her paintbrush and straightened up.

"Not yet," she answered, frowning at the canvas that Riley couldn't see from her distance. "Probably by tomorrow."

"Well, are you tired? Okay, let's go get some rest." Riley and Simmie stood up.

"See ya later, Daryl," Riley said, looking in the tent to see that Daryl was already asleep. Riley smiled, pulling the flaps down and zipping them shut before the two women made their way down to the stables. They settled down, and Simmie almost immediately fell asleep.

Riley, however, took the same position as last night, staring at the stall door, disappearing inside her mind.

* * *

"Uh- guys? There's… There's walkers in the barn."

Riley's eyes snapped up to Glenn's nervous figure, feeling a chill run down her spine. She glanced over at an ashen Simmie beside her then up at Daryl on her other side. They had been _wounded_ here. Her, Daryl, and T-Dog had been wounded, leaving the camp vulnerable while there were walkers _right under their noses._

They all went down to the barn, Riley peering through a crack and trying to get a count on them. She pulled back, shaking her head. "I counted at least seven, but I couldn't get a good look." She went over to where Simmie was standing, nervously eyeing the barn.

"We're close to findin' this girl; I jus' found her doll!" Daryl exclaimed.

"That's righ', ya found a _doll_, Daryl," Shane shot back, making Daryl furiously lunge for the man. Riley quickly grabbed onto his shirt and torso, trying to pull him back. He shoved her away, stalking angrily back and forth.

"An' lemme tell ya sumethin' else man: if she saw you all decked out with your bucknife and geek ears 'round yer neck… Man, she'd run in the other direction!"

Daryl lunged again, and it took Riley, T-Dog, and Rick to separate the furious men.

"Just calm down!" Riley shouted to everyone. Tempers flared as Shane and Rick battled it out before the barn gave a loud growl, the doors straining against the lock.

Simmie jumped away, and Riley stepped forwards, ripping her knife out of her holster. She wanted them to come out; she wanted to fight. She wanted to end the upcoming battle that was coming. Kill the walkers or don't kill the walkers? Shane or Rick? Riley agreed more with Shane at the moment than Rick, but she liked Rick just as much as she liked Shane.

Riley stayed behind with Shane, making sure the barn was secure. She stood beside him as he checked the chains in front, crossing her arms.

"I don't like this," she said.

"Rick's not thinkin' straight. These walkers get out middle of the night-"

"We're done for," Riley agreed with a nod, kicking the door. The walkers all stormed the door, and she took a half step back to avoid getting smacked by the straining wood.

"Jus' gotta make him see it for how it is. Screw Hershel. The man's crazy."

"Everybody's forgotten here how _dangerous_ they are," Riley stated.

"You'd think after the first time our camp got stormed, they'd want to do anythin' to keep it from happening again."

Riley shook her head angrily. No matter what Hershel or Rick wanted, this was so dangerous. Just one board giving way would mean death for the group. Hershel, of course, would be fine; his family would be sheltered inside his perfect little house.

"Are we gonna set up guards?"

"Hell yeah," Shane answered.

They headed back up towards camp. Riley passed by Lori and Carl sitting at a picnic table, and heard Lori say, "Now finish those problems."

Riley stopped, cocking an eyebrow. "You're teaching him math right now?"

Lori looked up at her. "Yeah," she shot back defensively.

"Shouldn't he be learning something that could help keep him alive? Martial arts? Fighting? Shooting?"

Carl's eyes lit up, but Lori just looked angry. "He's my son. I'll decide what he gets to learn."

Riley raised her hands at her chest. "Okay then." She went over to where Simmie was sitting next to a tree, nervously staring at the barn and chewing on her fingernail.

"Stop that," Riley ordered, swatting Simmie's hand away from her mouth. "Listen, I don't want you to go anywhere alone. And I _definitely_ want you to stay the hell away from the barn."

Simmie nodded. "I don't feel safe anymore."

"Hey, you're with me. Don't forget that. You'll always be safe with me."

Simmie gave her a nervous smile before standing up. "Come with me to get my paint stuff?"

Riley nodded, and they both headed back towards the stables. "Just leave me be!" they heard someone shout before Daryl stalked out of the barn, storming away and clutching his wounded side.

Riley looked inside the barn to see Carol standing there. The two women shared a glance before Simmie walked towards Carol, and Riley went after Daryl.

"Daryl. _Daryl,_" Riley called. He refused to stop even after hearing the woman's calls. Riley jogged in front of him, stopping and trying to get him to stop.

"Ge' outta my way," he growled, trying to get by her.

"_Stop _Daryl." She grabbed his arm, holding on even though he tried to pull away.

"Ge' off me!"

"No! Daryl, what the hell is wrong?!" she exclaimed.

"Are ya deaf?!" he roared, stepping closer to her. "I said leave me the _hell _alone!"

Riley's eyes grew huge, but she didn't let go. "Daryl, please-"

"Stop it! All ya do is follow me 'round laughin' like I'm the best frien' ya got! 'S annoyin' as hell! I cain't take it!"

"Daryl-"

"An' then ya get all pissed at me fer doin' nuthin', then when I try ta do sumethin', ya get mad at me again! Go bother someone else; I'm _sick_ of it!"

"What did Carol _say?" _Riley asked, flabbergasted. She was used to Daryl getting mad about something, but never about _her. _Sure he got mad about things she said or did, never about how she acted in general.

"We ain't talkin' 'bout Carol; we're talkin' 'bout ya!" he bellowed.

"I don't even know what we're talking about _period!" _Riley yelled back. "Seriously _stop_ taking this crap out on me; I didn't do anything!"

"Ya never do anythin'! All ya do is sit around mopin' 'cause of some sister ya lost years ago! Honestly, _get the hell over it!"_

Riley's heart clenched in her chest, and she inhaled sharply in surprise. She let go of his arm, feeling unwanted tears rise in her eyes. A chill ran down her spine, and her breath hitched in her throat.

Daryl realized what he'd said. "Riley-"

She cut him off, slamming her fist into his jaw as hard as she could. "Asshole," she hissed between clenched teeth. "You don't know what I've had to go through! Don't pretend like you _know_ me."

She wheeled around, sprinting away. She had no clue where she was going, and honestly, she didn't really care. She just wanted to leave. She wanted to put Georgia so far behind her she wouldn't even be able to remember everything that had happened here. She could go to Thailand, or maybe Moscow. Somewhere she could pretend; somewhere that nobody would know about her or her past.

She wanted to go back in time. She wanted to be fake; she wanted to have an alias. It was a mistake to ever join this damned group, let alone let them see her for who she really was.

It took her a second to realize she was back at the barn. She stared at the wooden planks, feeling the urge to rip off the lock and take on all the walkers herself. Sure, she was no match for over a dozen walkers, but she could take out the majority of them. She would be helping. And she wouldn't have to fight anymore; she could be in peace with Spencer. Was Mark with her?

_God, stop thinking about it! _she yelled in her head, dropping to a crouch. She gripped the hair next to her temples, gritting her teeth painfully and trying to fight away the thoughts.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she hissed in fury, wiping it away. She wasn't going to give in; not now, not ever. She wasn't going to give this world what it wanted.

"Riley?"

"Go away," Riley growled, pressing her palms to her eyes.

Daryl crouched down next to her, and Riley turned her head away. "Unless you want to get your ass kicked, get the _hell _away."

"I didn't mean wha' I said…"

"Like hell." Riley rose quickly to her feet, kicking the barn. Her toes throbbed, but she ignored the pain.

"I was jus' mad at Carol."

"And you took it out on me when I was trying to make sure you were okay," Riley spat, facing him. "But I'm guessing that was just me following you around like a lost puppy, right?"

Daryl sighed, shaking his head. "I didn't mean it-"

"Then why did you _say _it?" Riley demanded, stepping towards him.

He shrugged. "I was mad!"

Riley shook her head, pressing her lips together. She glared furiously at the redneck; he wasn't getting off so easily this time.

His eyes suddenly sparkled. "Come on." He turned and started heading towards the forest.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"I wanna show you something," he called over his shoulder, stopping when he realized she wasn't following. "You comin'?"

Riley didn't want to go. But she wanted to stay even less. She rolled her eyes and walked towards him, ignoring his triumphant smirk.

"Where are we going?" she asked, climbing over a fallen tree as he led her into the woods.

"Ya ask too many questions," he retorted, leading her deeper.

"Because I don't trust you," she shot back, even though it was a lie. Much as she hated it, she trusted the redneck, even if it was just a little.

"Tha's a lie," he said, stopping in front of a tree. "Can ya climb?"

She nodded, looking skeptically at the big oak in front of her.

"C'mon." He started slowly pulling himself up the tree, wincing in pain as the stitches in his side pulled.

"Don't. You're gonna kill yourself," Riley warned.

He grunted as he sat heavily on a branch. "Comin'?"

Riley sighed, gracefully scaling the tree, climbing the same stretch in half the time it took Daryl. She sat down in front of him, giving the redneck a _What now? _look.

"Look," he whispered, pointing to a branch right next to them. She turned her gaze to it, seeing a bird's nest nestled in a small crook. She leaned forward, squeezing her branch with her thighs, trying to get a better look at the small, blue eggs.

"Robin eggs," Daryl muttered. "Saw 'em the other day."

Riley smiled, her attention drawn up as the leaves rustled, revealing the mother. She tilted her head curiously to the side, chirping at them.

"Hi mama," Riley greeted quietly. The bird fluttered her wings in agitation. "We aren't going to hurt your babies, don't worry."

She didn't seem happy, but she kept her distance. A small cracking noise filled the air, and Riley looked down at the nest.

One of the eggs had a line down the middle of it, and a tiny section was shifting. Riley's smile grew, and she glanced wide-eyed at Daryl before looking back at the egg. A little yellow beak poked through, soon followed by a slimy, black, featherless bird. Its huge eyes were closed, and it rolled onto it's back, chirping.

It was soon followed by its few brothers and sisters, their helpless cries filling the air. The mama flew the short distance, nudging the baby birds right side up before throwing up and feeding all of them.

Riley laughed softly, looking over again at Daryl, who was staring at her. She blushed, turning back to the birds.

One of the babies flapped its tiny wings, turning around and looking straight at Riley. Her smile grew, and she waved to the little bird. "Hi, baby," she cooed, making the baby tilt its head to the side. "Hi."

Riley leaned forward even closer, but her hand slipped. She pitched violently to the side, nearly toppling out of the tree.

Daryl quickly wrapped his arms around her waist, hoisting her back on the branch, and much closer to him.

She looked up, his blue eyes centimeters from hers. He was still holding her, and she was all too aware of his fingers on her skin, brushing where her shirt had pulled up.

"Hi," she breathed, her heart hammering painfully loud in her chest.

He smirked before leaning down and pressing his lips to hers.

Riley's heart exploded and heat rushed through her veins. Her breath hitched deep in her throat, and she reached up to wrap one of her hands in his hair. Her other hand cupped his cheek, pulling him closer to her. His arms tightened around her waist, his fingers digging into her soft skin.

She tried to turn her head more to the side but lost her balance again. She gasped in surprise, clawing the back of his neck and breaking away as she struggled to stay on the branch.

He pulled her back up, pulling her flush against his chest. "You have bad balance," he whispered, pecking her on the lips again.

"Shut up." She rolled her eyes and grinned, leaning back and standing up on the branch. He watched nervously, hands ready to catch her.

She bent down, grabbing the branch and swinging down. She dangled from the branch, looking at the birds for a second. "Thank you," she muttered quietly enough that Daryl wouldn't be able to hear her before dropping to another branch. She watched as Daryl clambered down, finally landing on the ground.

He looked back up at her, throwing his hands up in the air. "What're ya doin'? C'mon!"

She grinned, squeezing her thighs painfully tight around the tree and sliding off the branch. She hung upside down, letting her arms dangle towards the ground.

"C'mon now; ya're gunn' hurt yerself!"

Riley laughed. "I'm invincible, Daryl!" she called.

"Until yer head splits open. Seriously, c'mon!"

Riley smiled, letting go of the branch. Her stomach jolted for a second, but she flipped in the air and landed on the ground in a crouch, as agile as a cat.

"Show off," he muttered.

Riley rose to her feet, rolling her eyes. "Jealous," she shot back.

He smirked. "Not likely. We should prolly head back; Rick an' I are goin' lookin' soon."

Riley nodded, and they headed back towards camp. As the adrenaline started to fade away, it was quickly replaced by apprehension and doubt. Riley pressed her lips together as she walked.

Finally, she couldn't take the silence anymore. "Daryl," she said.

He looked at her, and she gently cupped his face and kissed him again. When she broke away, she looked anxiously at him, searching for any sign of disgust, but just seeing confusion.

"Just making sure you meant it," Riley whispered.

Daryl's brows furrowed. "'Course I meant it. Why wouldn't I?"

Riley looked down at her feet, pulling her hands back. "I'm… not exactly the nicest person…"

"Ya seem fine ta me," he stated.

Riley smiled a little, and they kept walking.

* * *

**Lori... Honestly... I noticed this, and I knew Riley wouldn't be able to help herself from saying something. In the middle of the zombie apocalypse, you're really going to teach your son _math._ Lord have mercy Lori...  
**

**Soooo did y'all like it? (;**

**Leyshla Gisel: I agree. Riley as a mom... Wonder how well that'll work out (; Hahaha XD**

**Audrey Whyte: I hope this was soon enough! Hahah thanks for reviewing! (:**

**Lorem tenebrae: Aww, thank you so much! (:**

**Guest: Hahaha thank you! And I do really worry that I'm making Riley too soft -_- I'll just have to make up for that in later chapters. (; And you don't have to be sorry for hating Carol at all! This is a Hate Carol Zone ((((; Hahahah thanks for reviewing!**


	17. Chapter 16

**So when I said every Sunday, I think I really meant every Monday. XD I can never remember to upload after watching TWD. But here's the next chapter!**

* * *

**16**

Daryl was getting agitated by the time they got back to the house. Rick, Shane, Dale, and Hershel had all disappeared, with no word of when they were returning.

"Is anybody takin' this seriously? We got us a damn trail! There we go."

Riley turned around to see Shane storming up to them, bag of guns slung over his shoulder. She instantly knew what the furious policeman was going to do.

Shane started passing out guns, and Riley reached into his bag to grab her own Beretta. As she clicked the safety off, she realized how much she'd missed the comfort of having her weapon. Sure, knives were her specialty, but a long-range weapon was nice to have.

"What the hell?" she muttered as Rick, Hershel, and Jimmy all came out of the woods holding… _walkers? _

They all charged towards them, and Riley had no problem letting Shane do all the talking. Leading walkers to the barn… That was too much for Rick. That was taking this too far.

As Shane ripped open the doors, Riley was one of the first to pull up her gun and stand next to him. She ignored the horrified shouts and cries from the terrified and heartbroken people behind her as they gunned down their friends and family.

She felt exhausted when they'd finished. She was panting like she'd just run a marathon, and she licked her lips, staring at the massacred bodies.

Riley glanced over her shoulder at Simmie, who had one hand over her mouth and her tear-filled eyes stretched wide in horror.

Another quiet moan filled the air, and Riley faced forward again, pulling her gun up.

One little foot shuffled forward.

Another little foot shuffled forward.

The child's body stepped forward, face covered in shadow. With another moan, the head snapped up.

A chill ran down Riley's spine, and she felt the color drain out of her face. Her gun fell back down to her side as Sophia's glazed eyes took in their firing squad.

"_Sophia!" _Carol cried, running forward. Daryl held the sobbing woman back.

Sophia started picking her way through the horde of bodies.

_She won't hurt us, _Riley thought stupidly, shell-shocked. _She's just a little girl; she won't kill us. She just wants… _Riley shook her head, unable to pull her gaze away.

Rick stepped forward, raising his gun. Sophia stumbled forward, and Rick pulled the trigger.

Sophia's corpse dropped, crumpling into a heap of rotting limbs. Not a sound was heard other than Carol's sobs. Carol suddenly stood up and ran off in the other direction.

Riley turned to look at Simmie, who had a hand clamped over her mouth. Her tear-filled, horrified eyes locked with Riley's before the younger woman sobbed, running towards the other.

Riley grabbed onto Simmie, hugging her as tightly as she could. Simmie cried loudly into Riley's shoulder as the agent tried to make sense of it all.

She'd been in the _barn_ all this time… Daryl had almost died looking for Sophia, and she was dead all along. What if Daryl had died, chasing down the memory of a little girl?

Riley was distracted by Beth's high-pitched screams as the woman she once called mother tried to rip her flesh off. She didn't move though, holding Simmie even closer.

"She was… In the barn… T-T-This whole t-time," Simmie sobbed.

"I know," Riley breathed, burying her face in Simmie's shoulder. "I know."

* * *

Riley went back to the house with Simmie, who wanted to comfort Beth. The distraught teenager clung onto Simmie while Riley waited outside. Only a few minutes passed before Simmie joined her, and the two of them sat on the porch until Lori called them over for the funeral.

Nobody spoke. Riley stared silently at the heaps of dirt, glancing at Daryl, who came up and stood over her shoulder. After a few minutes of grieving, everybody went in their own direction.

Daryl stormed off, angrily snatching up his crossbow.

"You go," Simmie whispered. "I'll stay with Beth."

Riley nodded, jogging to catch up the redneck. He stopped next to a tree, turning to look at her. She sighed. "You okay?"

"Fine. You?" he asked quietly.

Riley turned her gaze up at the gray sky, the foreboding clouds rolling across the vast expanse. She finally contented with a shrug. "I don't know. I was happy when Shane opened the barn because… because…"

"'Cause you didn't haveta do it," Daryl finished. Riley looked at him in surprise. "I know how ya are, Riley."

Riley exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. "You almost died. You would've died for _nothing_."

"'S not nothin'. I thought she was alive."

Riley hopelessly shook her head, running her hands through her hair. "I'm so _sick_ of funerals," she suddenly spat, slamming her foot into the tree. Pain flared in her toes, and she moved in a circle, trying to walk it off.

"Least we know now. We can… move on."

Riley put her hands on her hips, nodding. "I-"

"Riley! _Riley!"_

Terror wrapped its freezing fingers around Riley's heart as Simmie's screams reached her ears. She wheeled around, instantly sprinting towards Simmie, who was running towards her.

"What's wrong? What is it?" Riley demanded, clutching the frantic woman's arms.

"Beth- She- fainted- quick- please!"

Riley's brow furrowed, but she followed nonetheless, sparing Daryl a confused backwards glance before charging into the house.

The fragile teenager was lying on her bed, eyes open and chest rising. Maggie and Lori were both in the room, and Simmie kneeled down next to the kid. "Beth?" Simmie asked tentatively.

"She's… in some kind of coma," Lori said, shaking her head.

"Beth?" Riley questioned, leaning over the unresponsive girl. She waved a hand over the pale face, but Beth didn't even blink. "Where's Hershel?"

"Rick and Glenn went to town to look for him," Lori answered. "They think he's at a bar."

Riley's brow rose incrediously. "Are you kidding me? He went for a _drink?"_

"Hey," Maggie snapped. "He just lost his family, I think he's allowed that."

Riley snorted, shaking her head. "Maybe he'll get drunk enough to-"

"To what?" Maggie demanded, standing up angrily.

Lori stepped forward to intervene, but Riley just shot Maggie a dangerous smirk before stalking out of the house.

_I've had it with these imbeciles, _Riley thought furiously. Nobody – _nobody – _was thinking straight. Going to a walker-infested town to drink, going into shock out of nowhere… What was going on?

Riley felt like the only sensible one left.

* * *

"Daryl!" Riley called, glancing confusedly at his tent and fire. "What are you doing out here?"

"Cain't take bein' next to everyone anymore," Daryl muttered, stoking the flames.

Riley's brow furrowed as she stopped in front of him, but she shook her head, trying to stay focused. "Rick and Glenn went after Hershel this afternoon, and they're still not back," Riley said. "And now Lori's gone too."

Daryl shrugged. "So?"

Riley blinked. "You don't care at all?"

"Not really."

Riley scoffed. "Bullshit. Don't even play that game with me."

Daryl refused to meet her gaze. "'S not a game."

Riley kicked the branch out of his hand, crouching down next to him. "You're being a dick," she growled.

"Leave me be," he demanded, angrily snatching his stick up again.

Riley shook her head, astounded at his arrogance. "I can't believe you. What happened to yesterday's Daryl?"

Daryl just shrugged, and Riley clenched her jaw in rage. "'Course. Should've known." She rose to her feet, stalking away.

"Shoulda known wha'?" Daryl couldn't help ask.

Riley stopped, slowly turning to face him. "That you didn't mean it," she spat before walking off.

He didn't try to stop her. Riley's heart twinged in sadness, which quickly made her furious. Like hell she was going to let any son of a bitch play with her emotions. Riley circled around, stealthily taking his motorcycle. She waited until she was at the gate before she started the engine. She kicked it into gear before flying down the road.

There was an unfamiliar car parked in front of the bar, and Riley could see strangers circled around the building, shooting into it. She quickly raked her gaze around the little town, counting at least five men.

She parked Daryl's motorcycle behind a building where it wouldn't get discovered before sneaking across the street and to the back of the bar.

Riley could see two men blocking the end of the alley, holding rifles. They ducked behind the building corner, and Riley crouched and ran towards the door. Staying below the shot-out windows, she pushed open the door. Gunshots rang out as bullets rained down on her.

"Stop! Stop!" she hissed, waving a hand around the door. "It's me; it's Riley!"

The shots stopped, and she heard Glenn whisper, "Riley?"

Riley eased into the building, quietly shutting the door behind her and standing. She nodded at Hershel and Glenn. "Where's Rick?"

"Right here," the policeman answered, climbing down a short set of stairs before crossing over to her. "Who all's here?"

"Just me," she answered.

"You're _incredibly_ stupid," Rick growled.

"You're gonna think I'm a genius when I save your asses," Riley retorted. "I only saw half a dozen men, and there's two of them covering this alley. They got a sniper on the roof of the next-door building. Even if we make it to the car, our chances of getting out are sketchy. The blow out a tire, and we're done for."

"So what do we do?" Glenn asked nervously, readjusting his grip on the rifle.

Rick sighed. "The car's our only chance."

Riley nodded. "I'll do it. Glenn, you should come with me."

"Why?!" the Asian demanded.

"Because you'll be able to watch my back and pick off the guys Rick and Hershel can't get to. You coming or not?"

Glenn moaned but nodded. She counted off, and the two of them inched into the alleyway. They took opposite walls, snaking towards the street.

One of the men whipped around and aimed at Glenn (he couldn't see Riley from his position).

"Glenn!" Riley exclaimed, lurching forwards and grabbing the boy. She shoved him back in a little alcove with a dumpster before white-hot pain exploded in her arm.

Riley cried out, loosing her footing and tumbling behind the dumpster with him. She hissed in pain, reaching up and clutching her arm. She felt blood quickly cover her hand, and she slammed the back of her head against the fence to try and distract herself.

"Are you hit?" they heard Rick call out quietly.

Riley didn't want to respond; she needed to save her breath, but Glenn was frozen, staring straight ahead. Rick asked again, and Riley answered, "I am!"

"Are you okay?!" Rick demanded, ducking behind the dumpster and crouching in front of Riley.

She nodded, pulling her hand away for a second to show him the wound. "It just- got my arm," she muttered. "Come on; we gotta go."

The three of them stood, and Rick started towards the left.

"_Not that way!" _Riley exclaimed just as bullets started ringing out. She reached forward and yanked Rick's shirt, pulling him back. "The sniper's right there!"

They watched as the kid was abandoned, before they all ran over to him.

"Is your arm all right?" Hershel questioned.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the kid!" Riley waved him off, raising her good arm and picking off the walkers that were coming. She tried to shoot as many as she could as Hershel tried to cut off the boy's leg.

Finally, Rick got impatient and just ripped him off of the fence. The kid screamed out in agony and passed out. They clambered into the car, but Riley shook her head, leaning in the window.

"Daryl's motorcycle is just over there; I gotta get it!"

"No, Riley, leave it!" Rick protested.

"I can't, he'll kill me! Cover me!" Riley sprinted across the street, ducking around the walkers that got too close, shooting as many of them as she could. She made it to the motorcycle, kicking it to life as fast as she could. A few seconds later, and she was struggling to drive one-handedly down the street after them.

* * *

Daryl was absolutely fuming. Carol had _really_ expected him to hit her? What kind of pig did she think he was?

Daryl went over to his motorcycle to get his crossbow but stopped dead in his tracks. Where was his motorcycle? Where the _hell _was his motorcycle?!

His stomach churned as a horrible thought crossed his mind. _Oh, God, Riley, please don't be as stupid as I think you are, _he thought as he started running towards the house.

He charged up the stairs, busting into the house. Everyone was inside, and they all looked up at him. He raked his gaze around the room, hissing in frustration when he realized Riley's was not one of the faces looking curiously at him.

"Where's Riley?" Daryl demanded.

Their curiousity morphed into confusion as they all looked around, trying to think of where Riley might be.

"You check the stables, man?" Shane asked.

Daryl nodded. "Where the hell is she?!" he shouted.

"Last time I saw her was at dinner," Patricia said.

"Where's Simmie?" Daryl asked.

They all pointed at one of the bedrooms, and Daryl barged in, slamming the door open. Simmie looked up at him, jumping violently in surprise.

"You know where Riley is?!"

Simmie's eyes grew huge. "Oh, no," she moaned, burying her face in her hands.

Daryl growled as his fears were confirmed, kicking the doorframe in fury. He stormed back into the living room. "She went after Rick," he explained.

Shane jumped up, blocking the redneck's path. "Whoa man, you can't just go chasin' after her."

"Why the hell not?! No one else is gonna do it!"

"We need you here, in case something happens! Riley can take care o' herself!"

"Hell naw," Daryl muttered, stepping around the man.

"Hey!" Shane barked, grabbing the other man's arm.

Daryl spun around, yanking his arm away. "Don' ya be touchin' me!" he bellowed.

"Listen to me, man, she'll be okay! She's smart, she's trained, and she's more than capable of bein' by herself! Jus' leave her be! We cain't have all o' y'all gone! Look, we'll go after 'em in the morning, alright?"

Daryl's eyes blazed, and he was shaking he was so angry. But Shane was right, and he knew it. "Damn all o' y'all," he muttered, shaking his head and storming out of the house.

* * *

It was morning when they finally made it back home.

Riley was exhausted; she'd stayed up a solid ninety-six hours, and she had a bullet in her arm to boot. Her arm hurt like hell, but she was keeping up a brave face. Hershel couldn't remove the foreign object until they got back home, and she could feel it nudging against her damaged nerves every time she shifted. The best Hershel could do was tie a tourniquet above her wound and stop the bleeding.

The car rolled to a stop, but Riley didn't move. Glenn climbed out of the car, opening the door and helping the wounded woman out. She stumbled sleepily, her hand flitting back up to her arm as pain shot down to her fingers.

"What the _hell_ were you thinkin'?!" she heard Daryl yell. She looked up to see that he had stopped dead in his tracks, eyes locked on the bandage wrapped around her arm. "Wha'- Are you hurt?"

"It's nothing," she protested as he tried to pry away her fingers. "I just got shot."

"Ya got _shot?!" _he demanded. "Riley, what the _hell?! _You steal my bike and run off without telling anybody where you're goin'-"

"I was trying to tell you," Riley snarled. "I was going to ask you to come too, but you started being a dick, so I changed my mind. And Rick drove your stupid bike back, if you're so concerned."

She tried to brush by him, slamming her shoulder against his before he grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"Riley, what you said last night… 'S not true," he muttered, looking uncomfortably at the ground.

"You couldn't have told me that yesterday?! I would've asked you to come with me, dipshit."

Daryl just shrugged before wrapping an arm around her waist, supporting the weak woman. "C'mon, let's get Hershel ta look at ya."

Hershel tended to Riley in his living room while Randall got the liberty of being taken to the barn. Riley squeezed her eyes tight, her jaw clenched as Hershel fished in her arm for the bullet. She growled as pain shot through her arm, instantly clamping her teeth down on her lip to keep herself quiet. She gasped as Hershel pulled the metal object out, leaning her head on the back of the couch in relief. Hershel cleaned the wound before wrapping a bandage around her arm. He gave her quick instructions before running off to help Randall.

Daryl and Simmie looked at her, both obviously waiting for an explanation. "I don't know what you two are waiting for. I did what I had to do," Riley barked, wanting to be left alone. Her eyelids were starting to droop, and she wanted to rest.

"You almost died," Simmie whispered, a deep frown gracing her features.

"Ya cain't go runnin' off like that. Not without at least tellin' sumone." Daryl shook his head, his stomach turning at just the thought of her leaving. She was extremely lucky to have only been shot in the arm; she could be dying right now with a bullet in her gut.

Riley leaned her head on the back of the couch, closing her eyes. Immediately, she felt sleep tugging at her consciousness. "I can do what I want," she muttered, not caring about the immaturity of her argument.

"No you can't!" Simmie exclaimed, burying her head in her hands. "You worry all the time about losing us, but have you even considered what we would do if we lost you?!" The stressed Indian woman had tears in her eyes as she pushed her hair back. "We _need_ you, Riley."

Daryl nodded. "Ya've got experience with this kinda stuff. Killin' ain't nuthin' new to ya. The group looks up to ya."

Riley suddenly felt very young. She felt completely out of her league; she couldn't be a role model. She was a murderer, an assassin, a trained spy. Not a face on a poster some teenager puts up in their room. Riley pulled her feet up under her, turning and laying on her back, making sure her arm wasn't touching anything. She shut her eyes, hoping the pair would leave her alone.

Daryl sighed, watching her. Even in sleep, her brow was furrowed and she looked anxious. He didn't bother to say goodbye to Simmie; he just stood up and walked out of the house.

* * *

Riley bolted upright, chest heaving and looking around wildly in a panic. Her hand clutched the knife resting on her thigh, her emerald eyes round as plates.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there," Rick calmed, reaching out and tentatively touching her arm.

She lashed out at him, instantly wincing and hissing in pain, clutching the wounded arm. Her eyes landed on him, and they shone with recognition. The woman calmed, turning and leaning her back against the back of the couch. "How long have I been asleep?" she mumbled.

"It's afternoon of the next day."

Riley exhaled through her nose, nodding. Her arm throbbed, but it wasn't hurting as much as it had yesterday. "What can I do for you, chief?"

"You've… questioned people before, right?"

Riley cracked open an eye, her eyebrow arching. "What kind of questioning are we talking about?"

Rick openly met her gaze, and the agent finally sighed, closing her eyes again. "Yes," she answered. "You want me to talk to the kid?"

"I wanna make sure he ain't holdin' nothin' back, and you're the one with experience… Daryl already… _talked_ to him earlier, but I'd feel more comfortable if you followed up on it."

Riley frowned, reminded of her talk with Daryl and Simmie yesterday. She stood up, shooting the police officer a nod. "I'm on it," she stated darkly.

"Riley," Rick whispered, and Riley stepped closer to him, understanding the privacy of their conversation. "I want you to find out if he needs to be killed or if it's okay to just let him loose. Now, I know that's a hell of a decision to put on you, but we really need your expertise. You're better at reading people than any of us. Can you do it?"

Riley's face rearranged itself into her emotionless mask. She hated torturing people; she'd been on both ends of the whip, and she didn't like either. Her victim's screams still resounded in her nightmares. But she would do what she needed to to keep the group safe. Riley just nodded steadily, setting her jaw and striding out of the house. She passed the kitchen on the way to the front door and grabbed an apple, an orange, and a glass of water.

Riley could see the members of her camp out milling around near the R.V. She made sure to keep a far distance from them – she didn't really feel like explaining her actions at the moment – stepping up to the barn.

Riley pushed open the heavy barn door, stepping into the musty building. The boy was tied and had a bag over his head. He shot up when she walked in, his muscles tense as he waited.

The dust stirred up, and Riley frowned as the mites tickled her nose, trying to get her to sneeze. The agent paused near the door, staring keenly at the boy, planning her move.

"Who- Who's there?" the boy stammered, obviously terrified.

"My name's Riley," she answered, making her voice timid with a definite southern twang. "I- I brought you some food."

The boy was quiet for a second before saying, "That's nice of ya."

"I'm not really supposed to be here…" Riley stated indecisively, before turning and pushing on the door a little, making it seem like she was about to leave.

"Wait!" the boy exclaimed, his voice cracking in desperation. "Wait, please! My- My name's Randall."

Riley let the door shut again. "Nice to meet ya, Randall."

"You sound like a nice girl; why don't ya come over and take off this bag?" he asked, obviously trying to be charming.

Riley rolled her eyes, though she kept her voice shy. "I don't know…"

"Please? I swear, I won't hurt ya."

Riley stepped up to the boy, carefully shifting into character. She made her eyes wide, and she bit her lip as she pulled the bag off. Randall stared up at her, smiling a little at the pretty woman leaning over him.

"That's a good girl," he whispered.

Riley leaned back, her brow knitting up in concern. "Um, here you go…" She peeled the orange, handing him one slice. She had to be the one in power, so she only gave him a couple more.

"You should wait before eating too much; your stomach will start hurtin'." Complete BS, but the kid didn't know that.

"You're real pretty, Riley," Randall drawled, shooting her a charming smile despite the bruises on his face.

Riley smiled, looking down at the ground and giggling like a little girl. "Um, how's your face?"

Randall shrugged, playing his wounds off like they were nothing. "Doesn't hurt too bad."

"I should probably… take a look at 'em," Riley stated, blushing and dropping to her knees next to him. She reached up, brushing her fingers slightly over his bruise. He winced, quickly trying to recompose himself.

"What happened to your arm?" Randall questioned.

Confident that he didn't remember her, Riley adeptly lied as she untied his hands, "I cut it runnin' from walkers."

"What happened?" Randall asked, trying to sound concerned and rubbing his wrists.

Riley shakily smiled, looking away. Secretly, she was enjoying herself; this was the thing she was best at. Not kissing, not keeping people safe, not socializing: lying. The charade, the act, it was thrilling. Constantly walking the line of getting caught, she had to keep on her toes or else face the consequences.

"They swarmed my camp, got my…" Riley swallowed, blinking rapidly and urging tears to rise in her eyes. "My daddy. I barely got away. Cut it on the barbed wire fence."

"I'm sorry. Ya know, I lost my daddy too."

"Really?" Riley asked, looking at the boy with wide eyes. He was as easy to read as a book, and the agent could tell he was lying.

"Yeah. They took over my camp too. Killed everyone. I was the only one who got away."

"I'm sorry," Riley apologized, handing him the rest of the orange. "What happened after that?"

He shrugged, tearing into the fruit. Some of the juice dribbled down his chin, and Riley wanted to roll her eyes. Instead, she kept her face naïve and innocent. "Walked around for a while 'fore I found this group. They had plenty of gun power- women and children too! I thought to myself, 'Well, maybe I'll have a chance!' But that was 'fore they left me."

"I can't believe that," Riley whispered, giving the glass of water to him. She'd already gained enough knowledge of his behavior in the short few minutes she'd interrogated him to know that he couldn't be trusted; now she was trying to find out as much as she could about his group. "Why would they leave you? I mean… were they mean people?"

"Sometimes. Especially when we went around scavenging; they could be real ruthless." He looked down at the agent with a meaningful look, and the woman's eyes widened in fear as she realized the meaning of his words.

"Oh my God," she whispered. After a moment, Riley finally asked, "Did you ever…?"

"No," he answered, shaking his head. Another lie. "I would _never_ touch a woman like that." He stared earnestly at the woman, and Riley had to resist the urge to puke.

Instead, she just smiled, rising to her feet. "I should go." She left the uneaten apple, slowly walking towards the barn door. She was more than aware that she'd left him untied and desperate.

She deliberately walked, counting softly in her head. She listened intently, waiting for the sound of the boards creaking as the boy clumsily made his way to his feet. He would be holding the apple now… He would be drawing his arm back…

Riley dove to the side, tucking her body into a ball and rolling just as the apple slammed against the door, rocketing right past where her head had been. The agent jumped to her feet again, watching the boy as his face drained of color as he realized his mistake.

"You thought that because I was a girl, you could take advantage of me, right?" she questioned, her voice cool and collected but with a malicious undertone. Her innocent act was gone, replaced by the Riley that was composed and had a hell of a poker face.

"No, no, no, I s-s-swear!"

"Just like those other girls? Listen, kid, I'm a whole different kind of person; you don't want to mess with me. Sit down," Riley ordered, stalking to the boy. He hadn't sat by the time she got over to him, so she slammed her hand down on his shoulder, effortlessly making him crumple. He cried out in pain, hollering for help as Riley rebound his hands. She rolled the bag in her hands, shoving it in his mouth and tying it around his head.

"Han't bweah," he cried.

Riley strode towards the door, crouching down and picking up the apple. She took a bite, muttering "Find a way" as she walked out of the barn.

* * *

**I feel like this was SO poorly written, especially the beginning D: But I'm not very good at following the plot word-by-word and making it interesting... Good thing I divert from the plot more in the next few chapters. (;**

**ScornedxRose: Yeah, I guess _I_ understand that. You'll have a harder time convincing Riley, though. (; Thank you for reviewing!**

**Sarah: Awww, thank you! (:**


	18. Chapter 17

**Next chapter! Only one day late, but oh well. Better late than never. (:**

* * *

**17**

The sky was overcast with a chilly wind that played with Simmie's charcoal hair. She bundled up the dirty clothes in her arms, shooting Carol a pained smile before walking off towards the creek at the edge of the forest.

Simmie's heart panged whenever she looked at the grieving woman. Carol was trying so hard to stay strong, and Simmie marveled at her sense of survival. If Simmie lost her husband and child, she didn't know if she'd want to live anymore.

Thinking of loss made her think of Riley, who was currently sleeping on Hershel's couch. Simmie's frown deepened; Riley was so strong but one of these days she would kill herself trying to keep everyone safe. She put up a good game, but Simmie knew the agent cared for at least the majority of the group.

The knife – donated by Riley - in her pocket seemed to weigh down her jeans, and Simmie couldn't deny she was nervous to go into the woods alone. She knew Riley would pitch a fit if she were here.

The undergrowth in the forest rustled, and Sky bounded out of the trees. She wagged her tail happily, dancing around Simmie's leg.

"At least you'll keep me company," the Indian stated, feeling much more safe with the canine.

The pair headed into the forest; Simmie had difficulty stepping through the thick undergrowth, while Sky had to circle back often to not lose Simmie.

A low growl followed by a _kerplunk_ reached the woman's ears, and she froze, a chill running down her spine. Sky tensed, raising her nose to the wind and swiveling her ears around. The growl filled the air again, and Simmie was about to turn tail and run but she heard a child scream.

Simmie dropped the clothes in her arms, recognizing the voice as Carl's, and sprinted towards the sound, ignoring the sharp branches ripping at her arms. She pulled the knife out of her pocket, gripping it as tight as she could.

She burst out into the clearing next to the creek, watching Carl scramble up the bank. He let out a sob, ducking behind Simmie's legs. She jerked her gaze back up, quickly taking in the walker stuck in the mud trying to crawl towards them.

Her heart threatened to explode in her chest, and she wanted nothing more than to pick up Carl and run. But what if the walker were to get free and get into the camp? It was extremely close to the farm. They would have to end it here.

"I- I- I dropped the gun!" Carl exclaimed, digging his fingers into Simmie's leg.

"Hey, hey, calm down," Simmie instantly soothed, using her teacher voice and dropping to her knees. She kept glancing towards the walker but, sure that it was stuck, she focused her attention mostly on the hyperventilating boy.

"You're safe, okay? He's not going anywhere right now. What gun?"

"I… I took Daryl's gun." The boy's fear instantly morphed into shame before turning back to fear again. "Please don't tell my parents!"

"We can worry about your parents later. Where'd you drop the gun?"

"Right next to him! I couldn't get it!"

_Daryl will kill him when he finds out, _Simmie thought. She looked at the walker, trying to think. They needed to get that gun and kill the monster. But it would need something to divert its attention the other way.

Sky suddenly stepped forward like she was going to deal with the walker. A quick reprimand from Simmie made the dog whine and lay down, her dark eyes focused threateningly on the creature.

"Okay, Carl, here's the plan. I'm going to distract him, and you're going to grab the gun. It'll be easy! Are you ready?" Simmie squeezed his arms comfortingly, and the boy gulped but nodded.

Simmie slid down the bank, her heart pounding as she made her way towards the walker. She got as close as she dared, the walker twisting around. His fingers were far too close for comfort, but it did the job. Carl snaked forward, grabbed the gun and sprinted back up the bank.

"Okay, can you shoot him?" Simmie asked.

For a second, Carl looked absolutely desperate. Simmie hated asking a child to kill something, but she knew he had better aim than her. Even from point-blank distance, Simmie didn't trust her aim.

The boy's face hardened, and he just nodded, pushing the brim of his hat back and raising the gun. He licked his lips nervously before pulling the trigger. The explosion made both of them jump, but it did its job as the walker stilled.

"Good job," Simmie praised, grinning shakily at him. The boy allowed himself a proud smile, and the woman took the gun from him, patting his back.

* * *

Riley's face was stony as she made her way towards the last place she'd seen Rick- the house.

She opened the door, casting a blank gaze around the members of their camp before turning her expressionless gaze on Rick's anticipating face. Very imperceptibly, she gave a slight shake of her head.

Rick's face fell, and he looked at the ground, recomposing himself as he realized what he had to do.

Dale seemed to understand what they were discussing, because he started talking, desperation creeping into his ton. "So that- that's it? We're gonna take the word of this – this _girl_ over our common sense-"

"She has had _experience_ with these kinds of things; she knows how to do – "

"Bull!" Dale exclaimed. "She might have experience – she's an assassin for God's sake! Where's your humanity people?!"

Throughout the discussion, the group had been glancing nervously at Riley, expecting the unusually composed woman to explode. But at Dale's last comment, the agent's eyes flashed. She stepped forward, her jaw clenching.

"Humanity? Please – humanity is a fairytale."

Dale blinked, taken aback at her vicious tone. Silence pressed down on their shoulders as the group anxiously watched, wondering what the woman would do.

"Humanity is a child's bedtime story. Something mothers tell their children so they have hope. There is no humanity; there never was."

Dale's gaping mouth closed, then opened again as he found the will to fight back. "You can't say that. You- You can't _honestly_ believe that!

"Oh, I do," Riley sneered, fury boiling in her veins. "9-11, for example. That was just a _glimpse_ of the real world. You see, all of you live in some fantasy where life is good, people are just. You haven't seen the things I have; you haven't _done_ the things I've done.

"I can't count on my hands how many people I've killed! And for what – for you selfish people so you can believe in 'humanity'."

"But you came home to good people; we've al had to sacrifice things-"

"I don't go home to anyone!" Riley hissed through gritted teeth. "I sacrificed my family, my peace, my ability to sleep! My sister was _dying_ as I was being tortured in some God-forsaken cave in the middle of the Arabian desert! Don't you _dare_ speak to _me_ about sacrifices. I have given up _everything_ so you people can believe in _humanity._

"If that kid ever got loose, he'd rape every one of us – " Riley gestured towards the frightened women – "before killing everyone else! He'd rob us blind, and how do I know this? Because it's my _job._ It's my job to look at someone and decide if I need to kill him.

Honestly, I'm _glad_ the world's gone to hell – I know for sure that no one can be trusted."

Dale had tears in his eyes. "You – You must have _hope_!"

"For what?" Riley demanded, barking a sharp, mirthless laugh. "I've seen men, women, _children_ lined up and shot execution style – right in the head – before their still-warm bodies were thrown into a pit!

"I've seen girls – _infants_ – raped so senselessly to the point where they couldn't move, couldn't breathe!"

"Riley," Daryl warned quietly.

"My six-year-old _sister_ laid on her death bed, crying for _me _while I was being whipped, raped, electrocute – "

Riley's voice cracked, and she furiously scanned the room, making eye contact with the people; their expression ranging from horror to sympathy.

Riley just shook her head. "_There's _your humanity."

The woman spun on her heel, storming out of the house. She wasn't quite sure where she was going; she just knew she needed to let off steam. Her stormy green eyes fell on the barn, and everything calmly fell into place. She was the only one strong enough to be able to kill this kid. She would have to do it now, while no one was paying attention –

"Riley!"

The familiar low drawl made Riley stop. The agent turned, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. At first glance, she could appear casual, but Daryl could see the subtle coiled muscles, the slight tightness around her hazy eyes.

"All that true?" he asked gruffly, carefully watching her. Such bouts of passion were near unheard of from the woman, and Daryl had neer seen her openly talk about her sister to a large group of people.

"What do you want?" she deflected.

Daryl stepped forward aggrevatedly. "I'm tryin' to help ya!"

"And there lies your mistake," she growled, turning and stalking towards the stables. The boy would have to wait.

"Riley," Daryl sighed in exasperation, following her. "Just – Stop bein' so damn stubborn!"

Riley snorted a quiet laugh, stepping into the barn. "Stubbornness has nothing to do – " She stopped dead at the sound of a horse's pained neigh. By the time Daryl had realized what it was, Riley was already in a stall, crouched beside a horse. Daryl recognized the sheeny horse as the pregnant mare.

"Get Hershel," Riley ordered, jumping to her feet and grabbing a towl that was lying near the saddle rack. She slid the towel under the horse's hindquarters, brushing the sweat-soaked mane off of her neck.

Everyone arrived seconds later, and Daryl kept them back to give the laboring horse space. Riley and Hershel were the only ones in the stall, waiting anxiously.

Only a few minutes later, a slippery black foal slid onto the bloodied hay. Riley's heart swelled at the sight of the innocent creature, feeling an uncontrollable urge to pick it up and cradle it.

The exhausted mother picked up her head, nuzzling the colt and whickering softly. The colt struggled to its feet, swaying so badly that it toppled over, getting lost in its long legs.

The huddle of people chuckled at the colt's bemused expression as it splayed its trembling legs, giving standing another go.

"What should we name him?" Hershel asked.

"Night," Andrea stated.

"Too cliché," Glenn instantly rebuttled.

"Johnny?" Beth offered.

Riley suddenly spoke up. "Spider." Whether it was because everyone liked the name or because everybody was too frightened to question the agent, nobody protested.

"It does look like one. With its legs like that," Daryl supported, leaning over the stall door.

Riley glanced up at him, her lips curving into a weary smile. Her arm throbbed painfully, her head hurt from all the emotional turmoil she'd been through, but she could still muster up enough strength to be content with Daryl.

The redneck, just as tired as she was, mustered up a faint smile as well.

* * *

The group eventually disbanded, leaving Riley and Simmie with the horses.

"What's going on with you and Daryl?" Simmie questioned after a while.

Riley glanced down at her from her precarious perch on the stall door where she was keeping a steady eye on the colt. Her lips curved into a smirk, and she just looked back down at the horses.

"No _way!" _Simmie gasped, jumping to her feet. "Tell me everything!"

"We kissed," Riley admitted, rolling her eyes. "It's not that big of a deal."

"It's a huge deal!" Simmie protested. "So are you two… _dating_ now?"

Riley's brow crinkled. "Do you really think Daryl and I are the type of people who 'date'?"

Simmie raised her eyebrows, placing her hands on her hips. "So you would be totally fine with Daryl kissing Carol?"

"Sure, after I whacked her to death with a shovel." Simmie grinned, and Riley rolled her eyes once again.

"Who are ya plannin' on killin'?" Daryl asked, walking into the stables.

"Nobody," Riley responded, glancing at Simmie, who was smiling so widely Riley thought her face might burst apart. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she answered, nodding excitedly. "I'm just gonna go… do… something." Simmie cast one more look at Daryl before giggling and walking away.

"She okay?" Daryl questioned, an eyebrow cocked.

"I told her about us, and now she's freaking out because she doesn't have a love life of her own."

Daryl smirked a little, glancing up at Riley. "So Rick's planning on doing it tonight."

Riley nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. "Is he going to be able to do it?" she whispered, rubbing her hands together.

"I dunno."

"I was just planning on sneaking in there when no one was watching and doing it myself," Riley stated honestly, looking to see his reaction.

Daryl just nodded, leaning against the side of the stall. "I know." At the raise of Riley's eyebrow, he shrugged. "I know how ya are."

"You been stalking me?" she teased, her eyebrows shooting even higher.

Daryl snorted, rolling his eyes. "Ya wish."

"Maybe I do," Riley retorted, her spirits soaring. She couldn't remember the last time she'd _honestly_ flirted – because she liked someone and not because she needed to trick some guy into liking her.

Daryl's wide-eyed gaze snapped up to hers before a smirk quickly rose on his lips again. "Keep forgettin'…" he confessed, and Riley knew that he meant he kept forgetting they liked each other. What with the frequent fighting and their lack of PDA, Riley was quick to forget it too.

The impulse rose up in her, impossible to fight. She reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer and pressing her lips against his. A chill ran down her spine and goose bumps appeared on her skin as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

A flare of pain shot down her arm, and she remembered her wound with a hiss.

"Ya okay?" Daryl muttered.

"Damn bullet," Riley growled, leaning back. Bullets were always a great way to kill the mood.

"Maybe next time ya won't steal my bike and go runnin' off," Daryl stated condescendingly.

"Okay, _mom_," Riley sneered, elbowing his stomach.

* * *

"What's up?" Riley questioned, immediately picking up on Simmie's unease as she stepped into the stables. Daryl had long gone to go take care of things with Randall, and Riley had decided to stay back and keep an eye on the colt.

"I have to tell you something," Simmie said, and Riley noticed the paper and paint in her hands. Sky bounded in after the woman, and Riley fluidly sat down, letting the ninety-pound canine crawl into her lap and collapse on her leg. Riley smiled, scratching the dog's stomach and nodding for Simmie to go on.

"Today… I was going in the woods to wash some clothes in the creek" - Simmie looked away from Riley's sharp glare, forging on – "and I heard Carl scream, so I went to check it out. There was a walker stuck in the mud, and we killed it but listen," she begged, seeing Riley's mouth open to scold her. "Carl stole Daryl's gun, and he said he was just throwing rocks at it. He told me not to tell his parents, but I'm going to tell them anyways, but I was wondering if you should give Daryl's gun back to him?"

Simmie pulled the gun out from where it was tucked in her pants, holding it tentatively in her hands like it was dynamite. "If this were a paintbrush or something I'd make Carl give it back to him to teach him a lesson, but guns are a whole 'nother story." Simmie smiled breathlessly, slowly sitting next to Riley.

"I should probably give it back to him," Riley stated, reaching over and taking the gun from her. "It wouldn't be much of a lesson if Carl ended up with a bullet in his head."

"That's what I thought," Simmie said.

"Why were you in the woods alone?" Riley asked, her lips drawn into a frown.

Simmie shrugged, setting the paper in her lap. She pulled a pencil out from where it had been tucked behind her ear, beginning to sketch the foal sleeping in the stall. "You were still sleeping, and everyone was busy. I was with Sky!"

"That doesn't make it any better," Riley growled. "I _told_ you not to go around by yourself."

A spark of anger lit itself in Simmie's chest, and she kept her eyes carefully glued to her paper. "I'm not a child," she whispered quietly.

Riley sighed, knowing Simmie was irritated. "I know. I just can't lose you."

Simmie's heart panged, and she couldn't stop the anger from instantly fading away. Simmie was really all Riley had left, aside from Daryl. But they both knew that if it ever came down to Simmie or anybody else, Riley would pick Simmie. "I'm not going anywhere," Simmie promised, glancing up at Riley with a soft smile.

Riley smiled back, stroking Sky's fur and watching Simmie draw. Eventually, she leaned her head back and shut her eyes, feeling calmer than she had in days.

Riley's eyes snapped back open at the sound of heavy footsteps. Her brow furrowed at Daryl, who angrily stalked into the stables. "What's up?" she called.

"Damn kid's still alive," Daryl stated, putting his hands on his hips and looking down at the agent.

"What?" Riley demanded, rising to her feet. "What happened?"

"Carl walked in right as it was 'bout ta go down."

Riley shook her head. "Rick'll never do it now. I didn't think he'd do it in the first place."

"Does him killing that kid mean that little to you?" Simmie asked, surprised at her friend's lack of empathy.

Riley turned. "Even less so than you think. He's dangerous; his group's dangerous."

"You don't know that for sure," Simmie protested.

Riley's eyebrows shot up. "I know people, and you know I do. I know the second he gets out he'll have no problem killing and raping us."

Simmie sighed, shaking her head and turning back to her painting.

"So what do we do now?" Riley asked, sitting down.

Daryl shrugged, sliding down beside her. Sky sniffed him before nestling between Riley and Simmie. "We wait an' see."

The truth that Riley would undoubtedly take matters into her own hands hung heavy in the air between them, but they both understood not to bring it up in front of Simmie. Riley wanted to shield Simmie from that side of her personality as long as she could.

"I'm going to tell you something, and if you get mad I'll put you in a choke hold until you pass out," Riley warned.

Daryl cocked an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

Riley pulled his gun out of her holster, handing it to him. "Carl took it."

His eyes sparked, and he snatched it away. "The hell did he want with my gun?!"

"I don't know. But if you get any angrier…" She trailed off, her expression daring him to retaliate.

"Like you could," he growled, but he sat his gun next to him.

"Don't tempt me," Riley stated, turning her gaze back to the horses across from them. She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Simmie, who was watching her with wide eyes. Riley winked, her lips twitching into a smirk, and Simmie smiled as well.

* * *

Riley went over to the huge oak tree near the house, spotting the lowest branch. She grabbed a wooden box and vaulted up on it, jumping and grabbing the branch. She swung for a second before she started knocking out pull-ups.

Her arms groaned in response; fighting helped keep her muscles greased, but working out was the only way they would get stronger.

She dropped her left arm, resorting to just her right arm. Grunting with the effort, she squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on just breathing.

"Riley?"

The child's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she looked down to see Carl standing below her. She sighed, bringing her arm back up. "Move that box for me." Carl did as he was told, and Riley swung back before jumping down. As soon as she hit the ground, she bent her knees and rolled, springing back up and facing him. "Yeah?"

"Um… What you said the other day, to my mom… You're right. I shouldn't be learning math; I should be learning how to fight."

"And you wanna know if I'll teach you," Riley stated, wincing as her arm stung. She rolled up the bandage to make sure the wound wasn't infected. The hole in her arm hadn't healed completely, but it definitely looked a lot better. "I don't know kid; your mom might get mad at me. I don't feel like dealing with drama."

Riley bent over and hefted the box up, setting it back down where she found it. She nodded at T-Dog, who waved.

"You're scared of what my mom'll say?" Carl asked, incredulous.

Riley turned on the boy, a smirk on her lips. She knew exactly what card he was trying to play, and it was one that she'd discarded a long time ago. "Nice try, kid. But I'll train you. Best to get a proper training before you get some half-assed attempt."

She led the kid into a pasture where the colt and his mother were out. They were curious but mostly kept to themselves as Riley ordered the boy to start stretching.

He grumbled and complained, but she made him do it anyways. Once he had stretched to her liking, she barked for him to start running.

"What is that going to help with me fighting?"

Riley cocked an eyebrow. "You want my help or not?"

Carl huffed, taking a step in the opposite direction before turning back again. He crossed his arms. "Tell me."

Riley's eyebrows shot up at his attitude, and she pushed off the fence, stepping forward threateningly. "You think you're so tough? Come on; take a swing."

Carl's face fell, and he stared cautiously at the woman, not moving a muscle.

"That's what I thought. Pretend I'm a walker."

"Wait- I don't have a gun!"

Riley's brow furrowed like that thought hadn't even occurred to her. "Go talk to your dad if you want to learn to shoot a gun. I'm teaching you how to _fight."_ Riley started lurching forwards, dragging her leg and locking her joints. She stumbled towards the kid, who started stepping backwards.

"You gonna do something?" she demanded, still making her way towards him.

Carl decided to try a move he'd seen Riley do a few times. He pranced forward, kicking her knee with as much strength as he could muster. Riley didn't even flinch, collapsing on him and trapping him under her weight.

"You're dead." She sprang up, pushing her stray hair behind her ears.

"With you sittin' on his chest like that I wouldn't be surprised."

Riley turned to see a Daryl and Rick standing behind the fence. She put her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at the smirking redneck. "I'll punch you again."

"What are you two doing?" Rick asked, chuckling at Carl, who made a face at Riley's back.

"He wanted to learn how to fight," Riley answered, rolling her eyes. "He started complaining, so I let him have a shot at me."

Something hit the back of her knee, and Riley's legs buckled. She dropped to one hand, spinning with a leg straight out. Her calf hit Carl's side, making him flip over her leg and land heavily on the ground. Riley jumped back up, brushing her hands together.

"Don't be an idiot. You'll never be able to take me," she promised, turning back to the men who had eyebrows raised.

Daryl was valiantly fighting a smile as he adjusted the crossbow on his shoulder. "We're gonna take Randall and drop him off somewhere tomorrow."

"Today we're movin' into the house," Rick continued.

"All of us?" Carl asked, rubbing his elbow and shooting Riley a glare.

"Yes, all of us," Rick answered, chuckling at his son's antics. "So why don't you go help your mom. Go on."

The boy obeyed, and Riley went to sit on the fence. "Simmie and I can just stay in the stables with the horses. That way it'll be less crowded and I can keep a look out."

"You sure? There's enough room…"

"We'll be fine," Riley assured, glancing at Daryl, who shuffled his feet awkwardly. She wanted to offer for him to stay with them, but she didn't want to ask in front of Rick.

"D'ya think you could keep an eye on Shane for me?" Rick asked, lowering his voice though there wasn't any one else around.

"You know?" Riley questioned.

Rick just dropped his gaze, shaking his head. "I don't know what I know. I just know that my best friend is a little unstable. I'd do the same for you with Simmie. Or Daryl."

Riley and Daryl exchanged a glance, and Riley couldn't help the amused smile that flitted across her face. "'Course I'll watch him, chief. But, hey, you could watch him yourself. Let me and Daryl take care of Randall," she urged. That way she could kill him out there and not have to deal with the messy consequences here.

Rick seemed to understand what she was saying and shook his head, locking his eyes firmly on hers. "Naw, we got it. Thanks, though."

Riley just nodded, giving him a two-finger salute, and Rick nodded, turning and walking away.

Daryl went to follow him, but Riley called him back. "You can stay in the stables with us if you want," she offered.

Daryl frowned, fighting a smirk. "I don't know if I like you enough to sleep on hay…"

Riley rolled her eyes. "It's either hay or hardwood floor. At least with me you'll get kissed."

"Well, I've got Carol," he stated, glancing over his shoulder at the house.

Riley jumped off the fence, shoving his chest and smiling. "Go kiss your grandma, then."

Daryl smirked, slamming his lips against hers before falling into step beside her and heading towards the house. "While I'm gone, you gotta swear not to do anythin' stupid."

"Me? Do something stupid?" Riley asked sarcastically, gasping in mock-surprise. "I don't plan on you two even having to go."

Daryl's expression turned sour. "I dunno, Riley. You'll just make Rick mad."

"What's he going to do? Turn me out on the streets? I'm valuable; he wouldn't dare."

"Look who's getting cocky," Daryl stated, smirking.

"I'm going to do what it takes to keep you and Simmie safe. That boy is a threat. I eliminate threats, plain and simple."

Daryl stared at her for a second before shaking his head. "Sometimes you can be damn scary."

Riley just shrugged, smirking. When they got to the house, they went separate ways. Riley found Maggie and asked if there was any wire. Maggie gave her a thin cord, and Riley pulled out her knife, wittling away at the hard coil. She made the edge jagged enough that it drew a small line of blood when she drew it across her finger.

Satisfied, she stuck the wire in her pocket and started helping moving things into the barn. The agent instinctively looked around for Simmie and, after not finding her, set out for the stables.

Simmie had brought the colt back in and was playing around with it. Riley smiled at the sight, her heart swelling. Despite everything that had happened, Simmie could still laugh and be happy, and that meant everything to Riley.

"Did you get everything?" Riley questioned.

Simmie nearly jumped out of her skin, stumbling backwards in fright and falling onto the ground. Riley grinned, helping the laughing woman back to her feet. "You okay?" Riley asked.

"I think so," Simmie responded, her eyes crinkled up as she grinned. "And I already moved all of our stuff."

"Well, we're going to have to go back and get it. You, me, and Daryl are staying out here."

Simmie groaned. "Really? I was looking forward to not getting grass in my hair every time I laid down."

"What are you talking about?" Riley demanded. "You make the hay-in-the-hair look hot." The agent winked, and Simmie just rolled her eyes, slapping her friend's shoulder.

"You're in a good mood," the Indian remarked.

"It's been a good day," Riley retorted.

"Oh! I finished my painting. Wanna see it?" Simmie pulled it out of her back pocket, unfolding it and holding it out to Riley.

Riley gazed down at the small black foal curled up in a nest of golden hay. The orange-ish/brown walls and glow made the picture seem warm and comfortable. It was beautiful.

"This is gorgeous," Riley stated. "Damn you for being so good at art."

"Well, I've got to be good at _something_," Simmie responded, smiling. "Thank you."

Riley handed it back to her, and Simmie slid it in her pocket again. The two women got their supplies from the house, depositing them at the stables before going back to the house for dinner.

Nobody noticed Riley slipping away in the middle of the meal.

* * *

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	19. Chapter 18

**Sorry about the wait guys! Every time I remembered to post this chapter, it was 2 in the morning, and I was just too lazy to get up and post it! **

**This and the next chapter are really short, but you guys better buckle up and pull out some tissues because there is some major angst coming. **

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**18**

Riley felt the wire in her pocket grow heavier with every step she took. Finally, she couldn't take the weight and just pulled it out. She held it in her hand, gripping it so tightly she drew blood across her palms. Oblivious to the pain, she continued, her heart beating like a machine gun.

She was about to kill someone.

Again.

_Block it out, _she reminded herself, and she did a good job of shoving the thought from her mind. Her heart still raced, and a cold sweat broke on her brow, but she didn't think about it.

She didn't think about how this boy would never grow up. He would never see his friends again; he would never fall in love. He would never have kids and continue the dwindling population of humans. He would never be happy. He wouldn't even have the chance to fight; he wouldn't know what was coming.

That was the thing Riley hated most about what she was going to do. When she was on a mission, or running around in the woods, it was no big deal killing someone in self defense or because her boss told her she had to. This was _her_ decision, and she'd have to deal with the consequences. All of them.

But the price was enough to pay if it meant Simmie wasn't raped. If it meant Daryl wouldn't be murdered by the boy's group. Riley could be strong enough to take this burden on her shoulders, if she had to be.

That was something Riley was quickly learning; she was whatever she needed to be. Whatever Simmie, Daryl, the group needed. A spy? She'd be it. A murderer? Wouldn't think twice. A martyr? She'd do it in a heartbeat.

Riley stepped into the barn, careful to be as silent as she could. Randall seemed to be asleep; he was slouched over and wasn't moving. The slight up and down of his shoulders was the only indicator to him being alive.

Riley hesitated before thinking about how manipulative the boy had tried to be. She was really doing him a favor. She was saving him from this "cruel world", a world in which people like her flourished. He would never have to worry about making decisions like this.

Riley unwound the wire, holding it in either hand. She stood over him for a second before taking a deep breath.

_He's just another roadblock._

Riley crouched down, pushing her knee against his back and sliding in the small gap between him and the wall. She wrapped the jagged wire around his neck, and the teen started awake.

Riley began to pull, using all of her weight to drag the wire against his throat. The boy made a gurgling sound as blood poured out of his mouth, the wire disappearing in the inner folds of his tissue. He raised his hands, digging into the wound in an attempt to escape the wire.

Riley clenched her eyes shut and waited for the years to pass before the boy's hands slowly dropped. His eyelids shut, and he whimpered one last time before his final breath left his lungs. His body crumpled, the weight leaning painfully against Riley.

Riley opened her eyes, pushing away the corpse. She released the wire, her own blood mingling with his, which covered her hands and arms. She stared down at them for a minute before realizing they were shaking so badly they were just red blurs. She rubbed her hands on her hips, but that didn't remove any of the liquid.

Riley tried her hardest not to look at him, but she couldn't help but risk a glance. Though he could pass for someone sleeping, anybody who took a close enough look would be able to tell. No human being was that still, not even in sleep.

The smell of blood filled her senses, making it difficult for her to focus on anything. She numbly turned, stepping out of the barn. The frigid air washed over her, cleansing her mind for a heartbeat.

Riley absently made her way towards the house, eyes trained on the ground. She couldn't shake the guttural noises he had make, no matter how much she tried to distract herself.

She lost her balance, teetering dangerously to the left. She tensed, trying to stop her spinning surroundings. She stared at the house, realizing that she couldn't go there. She was a little unstable at the moment; they would be suspicious.

The shaken woman headed towards the stables, unconsciously finding herself in front of the new colt's stall. Riley peered into the box, and the foal spotted her.

He whickered, clambering to his feet and prancing to the door. He reached his head up as far as he could, and Riley held out a shaking hand. The horse sniffed her bloody fingers, snorting in surprise.

Riley eased into the stall, sitting and supporting herself against the wall. The colt butted against her chest before moving back to his mother.

Sky appeared in the doorway, staring at Riley before sinking to her haunches. Immediately understanding that something was wrong with her master, she let out a low whine and laid her head in Riley's lap.

Riley raised a hand and absently stroked Sky's head, unable to forget the feel of the wire in her hands.

* * *

It wasn't until dark that Riley was able to make her way back to the house. She was much more sound and had stopped by a well on her way to try and wash the blood off of her hands. There was a still a stain, but if she kept her arms folded nobody would notice.

Riley slipped in through the door, eyes flickering over to where Dale, Shane, and Rick were having an argument. The agent caught eyes with Daryl across the room, nodding carefully at him.

His brow furrowed, but he nodded back, and Riley took a spot next to Simmie, who was chewing anxiously on her nail, gaze locked on the fighting men.

"Stop that," Riley whispered hoarsely, swatting Simmie's hand away from her face. "What's wrong now?"

"They're fightin' about Randall," Simmie answered. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and she looked at Riley. "Are you okay?"

Riley avoided the woman's prying gaze. "Fine," she shot back, sliding her hands in her back pockets. She stared at the men, not listening to what they were saying. She was more than aware that Simmie and Daryl were watching her like a hawk, and she tried her best to not look guilty. Considering how hard it was to do that, she just fixed her features into her expressionless mask.

Dale threw his hands up in the air, his voice breaking as he said something before storming out of the house. Rick sighed, rubbing his face and glancing over at Lori.

A loud bellow from Dale's direction reached their ears, and Riley, being the closest, was the first out the door.

A walker was laying on top of Dale, hands grappling at the man's skin as it tried to bite Dale, who was doing his best to avoid the gaping maw.

Riley bolted forwards, digging her shoulder into the walker's side and tackling him. She grasped its collarbone, locking her elbows and trying to keep it as far from her as she could.

Riley was surprised at the walker's strength. The fingers scraped against her torso, and she remembered that just a scratch from one of the nails was equivalent to a bite. She grabbed his hands, pressing them against his chest. She wasn't able to reach her knives; she was too preoccupied in avoiding his snapping jaws.

An arrow embedded itself into the walker's temple, and it stilled, crumpling on Riley. She grunted in disgust, shoving the rotting corpse off of her. Daryl held out a hand and helped her up.

"Ya okay?" he questioned, his eyes locked on her fingers.

"Fine," she answered, yanking her hand back and brushing the seat of her pants. Daryl stared at her, his eyes a little wider than normal, and she guiltily avoided his gaze.

"Are you okay?" Simmie demanded, running up to Riley.

Riley nodded, and Simmie threw her skinny arms around the agent. Riley, surprised at the woman's concern, faintly hugged her back.

"It's Randall!" Shane exclaimed.

"What?!" Rick demanded, and the two police officers examined the body.

"Looks like his neck was sliced," Shane commented.

"Somebody did this," Rick stated, his grim gaze rising to his group.

"I did," Riley confessed before any more drama could ensue, stepping forwards.

"What the hell-"

"I did what needed to be done-"

"And almost got Dale killed!"

"I didn't know he would get bitten! If we should be fighting something, shouldn't it be the walkers that are in the barn!"

"Nobody's going anywhere," Rick ordered, glancing around at the women who were scared and the men who gripped their weapons. "We are gonna talk about this."

"Man, we really should go check it out," Shane urged. "If there are walkers-"

"No!" Rick exclaimed, his tone leaving no room for question. "I'm in charge; my say goes." Nobody dared to say anything. "Good. Riley, we agreed on sending him out. We made the decision."

"I did what I had to. He was a threat; I eliminated it."

"That was not your decision to make."

Riley didn't answer. She knew more than anybody that it wasn't her choice, but she did it anyways. If Rick wanted to kick her out of the group, he could. She was used to living on her own; it would be no different now.

"Come on, man." Shane stood and started towards the barn.

Rick just shook his head and followed. As he passed Riley, he turned his blazing blue eyes on her. "At least show some sympathy," he spat before walking off.

Riley stared at her fingers, letting herself be afraid to meet everyone's eyes. She swallowed, raising her stony gaze and staring off into the distance.

Daryl crouched down next to Randall, examining his body. His eyebrows furrowed, and he stood up. "There ain't no bite."

"How'd you do it?" Dale questioned, tears shining in his red-rimmed eyes. "I mean- You just s-sliced his neck open?"

"I used a homemade Garrote. It's a wire used to strangle someone," Riley elaborated to the confused faces, which quickly turned to horror.

"How could you?" Lori uttered, shocked at the woman's apathy.

"I don't have to explain myself," Riley growled, frustrated. She knew they'd be mad, but she didn't think they'd be clueless. They could've understood. "I did what nobody else was able to."

"So you expect us to be grateful?" Dale spat. "For you murdering a kid- a, a child!"

"A child that was a threat-"

"Yeah, you keep saying that," Lori stated, her arms crossed pompously. "How much of a threat was he really? He was tied up and gagged."

"You thought he was a threat when Rick did! I'm sorry that I actually buckled up and tried to get something done!"

Several of the group started yelling at her all at the same time, and Riley was too frustrated to sit there and be their scapegoat. The agent turned and jogged off, trying to work off some steam.

It wasn't long until she just resorted to walking, watching her breath form clouds in front of her face. Away from the loud hubbub of camp, she could hear someone else's footsteps behind her.

"Riley?" Simmie asked when the agent stopped.

Riley turned around, facing her friend with crossed arms. "If you're going to criticize me too, you can just go."

"I'm not," Simmie promised, lacing her fingers in front of her. "I don't particularly like what you did, but I'm not going to criticize you. I know that you did it to protect us."

"You seem to be the only rational human being left," Riley commented, turning her gaze on the ground. But the others were right, too. She had killed just for her own selfish needs; because she couldn't take it if she lost someone else.

"How are you holding up?"

The fact that someone genuinely cared about how she felt and not about her actions would never fail to surprise Riley. To Simmie, it was never about what she did or who she killed or what happened to her; it was about her well being. Riley just shook her head, pressing a shaking hand against her face.

Simmie stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Riley. Riley let out a ragged breath, clinging to her friend. At the end of the day, it was Simmie who would never stop caring. Simmie wouldn't judge Riley; Simmie would be sympathetic and-

Simmie suddenly released Riley, stumbling backwards. Her eyes were stretched wide in horror, and she was staring at something over Riley's shoulder.

Riley spun around, taking in the sight of the hundreds of walkers seeping out of the forest. As far as she could see, the verminous creatures were occupying the land.

Riley turned around, grabbing Simmie's hand and sprinting towards the house. Simmie had trouble keeping up with Riley's elongated stride, but the adrenaline in her veins helped spur her along.

They burst into the house, and Riley immediately grabbed the gun bag out of a lemon closet, dropping it on the living room floor. She fell to her knees, dumping the contents on the rug.

"Walkers," was the answer to everyone's frantic questions. "Hundreds of them." Riley shoved a new clip into her Beretta, clicking the safety off. She shoved it into her holster, feeling much more comfortable now that the familiar weight was back.

"Can't we just bunker down and hide?!" Beth demanded.

Riley shook her head, her lips forming a grim line as she fished out a rifle and handed it to Daryl. "Get to the cars. We'll fend them off."

The two stepped out onto the lawn, hearing a loud gunshot resound from near the barn. "Where're they at?" Daryl demanded as Glenn, T-Dog, and Maggie dashed by, headed for the cars.

"They're coming," Riley answered. "There's a hell of a lot of them too, Daryl. We're not going to be able to get them all."

"We'll get what we can," he responded.

"Riley, we can't find Carl!" Simmie exclaimed, dashing up to the woman.

Riley gazed around, attempting to see through the dark and find the boy.

"Rick and Shane are still gone, too!" Simmie had tears in her eyes, and she was trembling.

"Maybe Carl's with them," Riley quickly tried to reassure her as the first of the walkers began to appear. Daryl hoisted up his rifle and started picking off the ones he could see. "They can handle themselves; get back on the porch and wait for a car, you understand?"

Simmie nodded, retreating back to the house. The two mowed down the approaching army until Riley ran out of ammo. She shoved the Beretta in its holster, pulling out her knives. "Cover me!" she barked, sprinting up to incoming herd.

She only cut through two before Daryl warned, "Riley!"

Riley glanced over, catching sight of a woman sprinting off towards the barn. She knew it had to be Simmie; that was the only person Daryl would know she'd be concerned about. Riley cursed loudly, taking off after the Indian.

"The hell are you doing?!" Riley shouted, hearing the loud explosions from Daryl's shotgun as he followed the two women.

"I have to find Carl!"

"No, you don't!" Riley grabbed the back of her shirt, struggling to tow her back towards the house as the cars started pulling up. "He's Lori's problem; not ours!"

"Stop, Riley!" Simmie screamed, pushing the agent away. Before Riley could stop her, a walker that had slipped past Daryl lumbered up to her. She detained it, and another one quickly replaced it.

"I'm gonn' get my bike!" Daryl bellowed, running off.

Riley gritted her teeth in frustration, torn for a second about who to follow. With a furious huff, she turned and chased up the hill after Simmie.

Simmie stopped so abruptly at the top of the hill that Riley nearly took her out. She followed Simmie's terrified gaze to the barn, which was currently on fire.

"They're fine, Simmie, we have to GO!" Riley shouted as at least fifty walkers turned and headed for them. She grabbed her friend's arm, spinning around and stopping dead as another fifty were blocking their path to the house. A quick desperate glance around proved that they were surrounded.

Simmie let out a hopeless sob, fisting the back of Riley's shirt.

"Run!" Riley ordered, running to their right, away from both the house and barn. She attacked the walkers closest, though her main priority was getting as far away as she could.

"Andrea!" Simmie screamed, grabbing Riley's arm and jerking her over.

"No, leave her!" Riley bellowed, slipping her arm out of her friend's grasp. A walker approached on the left, and Riley jumped on it, stabbing her blade clean through to the back of his head.

Simmie's piercing scream rang through the air, making Riley's blood run cold. She whirled around, watching as the walker sank his teeth into Simmie's arm, ripping away a chunk of flesh.

* * *

**Leyshla Gisel: Haha now you know (;**

**ScornedxRose: I guess that answered your question! Haha I just really hate following the plot exactly because that's never any fun... Who wants to read the show that you've already watched? :P And thank you! (:**

**oXxgeorgiaxXo: Haha me too. (; Thank you!**

**gypsy755: Thank you so much (: **


	20. Til Death Do Us Part

**Prepare for angst.**

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**19**

**'Til Death Do Us Part**

Riley shoved her blade into the walker's glazed eye, kicking it away. Simmie stumbled backwards, clutching her bleeding arm. She crumpled to the ground, and Riley just barely managed to catch her.

"Hey, you're okay," Riley croaked, trying to reassure herself more than her friend.

Simmie sobbed, her fearful eyes wide and watery. Riley pulled her closer to her chest, looking around wildly. Walkers were approaching from everywhere, but she no longer had strength to fight.

A truck plowed down the walkers, screeching to a stop beside them. Riley opened the side door, picking up Simmie bridal-style and jumping into the backseat. Before the door had even shut, Glenn peeled out.

"Are you guys okay?!" he demanded as Maggie leaned out the window and aimed at as many of the walkers as she could.

Riley didn't answer, her eyes fixated on the dying woman in her lap. She made an unintelligible sound, trying to stop the unnatural bleeding from Simmie's arm. Riley tried not to wince as she cupped her fingers on the bite and felt bone against her skin.

"Oh, my God," Maggie whispered, glancing back at Simmie when they left the farm.

"What is it?" Glenn questioned frantically.

"Simmie was bit," Maggie muttered.

Riley held onto her friend, desperately trying to think of a way out of this situation. This couldn't be happening. There was no way she could loose someone else; nothing could be that cruel.

Simmie croaked, and Riley instantly shushed her, stroking her friend's blood-matted hair. "You're gonna be alright."

"Please... d-don't kill m-me," Simmie hiccupped, closing her eyes and whimpering when the car hit a bump in the road.

"I would never hurt you," Riley promised, tightening her grip. A doctor. That's what they needed; Hershel.

"I don't wanna die," Simmie pleaded.

Riley shook her head, pressing her lips tightly together in a futile attempt to suppress her tears. "You won't." Riley's voice cracked in the middle of her statement.

The car jerked to a stop, and Riley jumped out before it even stopped moving. Simmie was limp in her arms, and Riley stumbled frantically out of the car. "Hershel?! Hershel!"

The old man came forward, and Riley laid Simmie down on the ground. Hershel examined her as Riley struggled to avoid the remnants of their group's depressed stares. Several of the women started crying, but Riley ignored them.

"Her artery was hit," Hershel remarked, looking over his shoulder sadly at the frazzled agent. "I'm sorry."

"No," Riley said, shaking her head. "No. She'll be fine. She'll be..."

"Riley," Daryl stated slowly, cautiously stepping towards her. He attempted to hold her, but she beat his hands away, shoving Hershel out of the way and dropping next to Simmie's side.

She was struggling to breathe. Her chest was constricting, and she hiccupped with every breath. Her eyelids flitted open at the touch of Riley's cool hands on her burning face.

"Hi," she breathed.

"Hey," Riley responded, blinking furiously to keep back the tears. She had to be strong for Simmie. Riley had to show that Simmie couldn't be scared.

"I'm going to die," Simmie said, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"No," Riley responded, reaching up and rubbing the tears from Simmie's face. "No. But guess what? You're going to see Mark again... And... And Spencer."

Simmie's lips flickered up into a smile. "I...miss them."

Riley nodded, her vision blurred because of the liquid pooled in her eyes. "Me too," she admitted. She took a ragged breath, struggling to compose herself.

Simmie turned her caramel eyes up towards the sky, sighing.

Riley leaned forwards, grabbing Simmie's hand in hers. "You know... I love you, right?"

"Love...you...too."

A tear dripped down Riley's face, and she quickly brushed it away, clearing her throat. She pressed her lips gently against Simmie's forehead, suppressing a sob. She was trembling so bad she could hardly keep a good grip on Simmie's hand.

"I'm...tired..."

Riley let out one tiny sob, pulling Simmie's fingers up to her mouth. She kissed her friend's knuckles, another tear falling. "Then go to sleep, baby."

Simmie took one final breath before she closed her eyes and died.

"Simmie?" Riley breathed, tensing and staring at her corpse. "Simmie?"

Riley sat back on her haunches, stunned into momentary silence. Simmie really was gone. She was gone forever.

"No, no, no, no, please!" Riley sobbed, shaking Simmie's shoulders. Her head rolled back, but she didn't wake up.

"No, no, no! Wake up, wake up, please! Please, Simmie, please," Riley begged, cradling Simmie to her chest. She leaned her chin against Simmie's head, closing her eyes as her body was racked with sobs.

"Please don't leave me," Riley whispered, clutching onto the body.

"I'm so sorry," Riley muttered, stroking her hair. She never should have taken her eyes off of Simmie; she should've taken care of her. If only she had worried about just Simmie.

Riley's whole body was shaking, and she couldn't see more than a foot in either direction because of her tears. This couldn't be happening. It was a joke. Simmie would wake up in just a few minutes, smiling and laughing as always. She would be her goofy best friend again, not this silent corpse.

Arms encircled her waist, and Riley screamed, sinking her nails into the skin. The owner hissed and pulled back, and Riley yanked the gun out of her holster. She turned, aiming the barrel at Rick, who was approaching.

He froze, spreading his arms and stepping back. Riley laid Simmie back down, setting the gun on the ground beside her.

Riley stared at Simmie, who was completely frozen. She would be like this forever, until her body decomposed. She'd become a skeleton, then dust, while Riley was still fighting, damned.

There was no hope this time. When Spencer died, Riley had Simmie. When Mark died, Riley had Simmie. No matter what happened, Simmie always was there.

Not anymore. No one would comfort her this time.

Riley shoved her fist into her mouth to muffle a scream. She sank her teeth into her knuckles. When the taste of salt from her tears dissolved into the metallic twang of blood, she finally let go, clutching her temples. She slowly started to rock back and forth, crying silently.

Rick stood next to Daryl, feeling tears rise in his eyes. It was hard not to get emotional watching the stone-cold agent bawling. And everyone knew Simmie. Everyone loved her; she was so childish it was hard not to. It was like loosing a kid.

"We have to move," Rick stated under his breath, though he doubted Riley was in a stable enough mindset to hear them.

"How we gonn' do that?" Daryl asked, rubbing the half-moon claw marks embedded in his forearms. His lips were drawn into a deep frown.

"I dunno, but we can't stay here." Rick glanced around, peering at the two dead walkers that had come to investigate the source of the screaming. "I don't think Riley will let us..."

Daryl just nodded; he was even more at a loss than Rick. He desperately wanted to help Riley, but he knew there was nothing he could do.

Why did he leave them? He'd planned to come back and get them, but that didn't matter. How could he have been so stupid?!

Riley finally stopped sobbing, staring numbly at the ground in front of her. She turned, gazing at Simmie's still face. She pulled her knees up to her chin, silent tears streaking down her dirt-covered face, and waited.

She was only dimly aware of the people who came up to talk to her. She recognized the voices as Rick, first, then Daryl, even T-Dog at one point. But she could never hear what they were saying. She didn't want to.

It seemed like years before Simmie stirred. Riley caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, and she kneeled down, staring desperately at her friend.

Maybe she really had fallen asleep, and she was just now waking up.

A high-pitched whine filled the air before dropping several octaves and turning into a groan. Simmie's eyes slowly opened, the irises glazed over.

Riley's stomach twisted into a painful knot, and she nearly vomited. A cold sweat broke out on her brow as Simmie's pale eyes moved over to her emerald ones.

"Please," Riley whispered. This was Simmie. She would never hurt her. Simmie got upset at just the thought of blood; eating human flesh would be an utterly impossible task for her.

Simmie moaned, reaching up to brush her cold fingers against Riley's face. Riley leaned into the touch, bitter tears once again rising. She ensnared both of Simmie's tiny wrists in one of her hands, leaning down on the Indian's chest to hold her down.

"Stop, please," Riley begged. "Simmie, stop, it's me; It's Riley!"

An inhuman growl was all she got back in response as Simmie snapped her jaws at the food laying on top of her.

"This isn't you!" Riley exclaimed. "Please, please, come back!"

"Riley, you have to let us do it," Rick said somewhere in the distance.

"No!" Riley shrieked shrilly, leaning even closer to Simmie's venomous jaws in an attempt to protect her. "She doesn't want to die!"

"She's already gone, Riley," Daryl responded somewhere to her left. "We gotta take her."

"No," Riley whispered, shaking her head. Simmie bucked underneath her, but the agent didn't budge.

Arms once again encircled her waist, gently pulling her away. Riley let Daryl take her just a few steps before she realized what he was doing.

"No!" she screeched, throwing herself against his arms. She struggled, kicking and beating him, but he refused to let go. "No, God please, no! Stop!"

She watched as Rick stepped forward, raising a gun to Simmie, who turned her blank gaze on him.

"No!" Riley screamed, sobbing. "No, don't, please!"

Daryl cupped her mouth in an attempt to keep her quiet.

Rick aimed his gun.

"Don't look," Daryl whispered into her hair.

Rick pulled the trigger.

Everything Riley was shattered. She watched hopelessly as Simmie's head split apart. Blood and brain matter went everywhere, and Simmie's body went limp once again, dropping numbly to the ground.

Riley couldn't move. Her muscles were locked. Her ears were ringing, and she could taste the tears pouring down her face. She crumpled to the ground, and Daryl fell with her, rocking her back and forth.

Riley sucked in a breath, forgetting how to breathe. She was falling apart, but that was okay with her. It was what she deserved.

She was barely aware of her being lifted to her feet. She swayed and nearly fell before someone picked her up, carrying her over to a car. She kept her eyes glued on the corpse laying in the road, not feeling the car start.

Much too soon, they drove away from Simmie's body, leaving Riley with it.

* * *

**gypsy755: "Freak out" is a bit of an understatement haha! Thanks for reviewing. (:**

**ScornedxRose: Thank you. (: And no, she mets right back up with the group haha. Could you imagine Riley right now with anyone other than Daryl? Chaos.**

**oXxgeorgiaxXo: Thanks. (:**

**Leyshla Gisel: Nobody is too tough to cry.. ): Thanks for reviewing. (:**

**Inveniam Viam: Thank you so much! (:**


	21. AUTHOR'S NOTE

So guys, I decided that the last chapter will be the end of this story!

A HUGE THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed. You guys are awesome! Thank you for sticking through til the end(:

This is not the end, however! I'm writing a sequel, _Life Goes On. _

Thanks again guys!


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